workaholic

I am worried that I am becoming a workaholic.

The constant busy-ness? It doesn’t feel so bad. The unmanageable schedule? My Google Calendar is my security blanket.

Last week, I suffered from a work… uh… snafu. A wrinkle in my schedule. I was limited to 20 hours of work a week. I must note that

A) I was not able to only work 20 hours that week

and

B) It didn’t feel like a vacation. It felt like I was going a little stir-crazy.

Granted, the beginning of the semester is not a time for vacation. With only two classes, I didn’t really have enough schoolwork to fill the hours, and I started to feel a bit… useless.

But now, I am back on track, back to the grind. And I like it. I like how every day is different. I like the feeling I get when I have some work to do and I do it, without procrastinating, because I have to. I like darting all over campus all day.

I can’t fit 2 days off into my schedule this semester. I have my Saturdays, but I work 12-4 on Sundays and can’t squeeze in a weekday off… so I’ve decided that Tuesdays are my Fake Days Off. I work one job, but just for 3 or 4 hours. I don’t tell my boss when I’m coming in until the day before. I come in as late as I feel like and leave as early as I want. The rest of the day is mine, for schoolwork or reading or exercise or relaxation or sleeping or cooking or whatever.

The part that really disturbs me:

I did that today. I went in at 10 and left at 1. I walked home with my roommate and went for a run. I went to the coffee shop and read The Knights of the Kitchen Table and started taking notes for my next paper, then ran to the store to pick up a few missing groceries. I came home, made dinner, and watched Pan Am on the DVR while I worked on my technology homework and updated this here blog. Shower, then bed.

My Fake Day Off felt just as relaxing as a Real Day Off.

How messed up is that?

But next semester will be different. And then I will be out of three jobs.

I predict that by that time, I will have returned to my willful, work-hating ways.

(Or, if exponential growth holds, I will be working 24 hours a day at 27 different jobs. In which case, will somebody please stage an intervention)

 

 

 

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