So lately, I’ve been working. Nothing but working. It’s BORING. I mean, I love my job. I love the people-part of it. But the work part of it? It gets old, after, lets be conservative, 14 hour days. I mean, yeah, I know thats too much. Yeah, I know it isn’t the ideal work-life balance, but, hey – that’s business right? I mean don’t you hear stories of the hard working people who start/ run/ succeed at business? They work 26 hours a day, use dry shampoo, and drink their food to save time. And then there’s little ol’ me. In this giant overpopulated virtual world, here I am. My feet hit the ground running – remember Flintstones with their feet running a mile a minute under the car? Here I am. My feet are spinning, and yet the car hasn’t moved yet. Hmph. I’m determined, darn it! My feet are goin’! And yet, my big visions are so frustrated right now. I want to do bigger, more, better, brighter, easier, cheaper, blah, blah, blah. I got the dreaming part down-pat. I’ve got dreams to spare too. (Want one?)
As a kid, when other girls were dreaming of hair bows and wedding dresses, it was my big dream to wear a black business suit with a pencil skirt, of course. And black pumps, with a black briefcase, and black-rimmed glasses. Yup. I was power-hungry at such a young age. Isn’t that sweet? (<–big giant glob of sarcasm)
I was sure I was going to be a big success. Instead of learning to knit, and playing ‘house’, I made pretend keyboards, and pretended to type, got scads of papers together and carried them around on a clipboard. Because I was important, you see. Oh my goodness. This kills me. How we change!!
In my 20’s it was pretty much the same concept – business suits, except they were red, and blue and khaki. And I think I even smiled every now and then. I started as a telephone operator and worked my way up to a sort-of apprentice business position. I had it ALL together. But then again, thats what we all thought in our 20’s, no?
Now. In my very cynical OLD mid-thirties, I dream of wearing dreadlocks, bikinis (I can dream!) and henna tattoos. And ironically, I work at home on my laptop. 14 hours a day. See how that doesn’t fit? There’s a little something missing in my day after/before/ during my waking hours.
What do they call that thing? You know – that place where dreams live? And happiness and hope for the future thrives? The place where satisfaction and creativity stems from.
Oh yeah,
LIFE.
I gotta get one of those.
Before its too late.
Social Networking is the sincerest form of flattery.
So lately, I’ve been working. Nothing but working. It’s BORING. I mean, I love my job. I love the people-part of it. But the work part of it? It gets old, after, lets be conservative, 14 hour days. I mean, yeah, I know thats too much. Yeah, I know it isn’t the ideal work-life balance, but, hey – that’s business right? I mean don’t you hear stories of the hard working people who start/ run/ succeed at business? They work 26 hours a day, use dry shampoo, and drink their food to save time. And then there’s little ol’ me. In this giant overpopulated virtual world, here I am. My feet hit the ground running – remember Flintstones with their feet running a mile a minute under the car? Here I am. My feet are spinning, and yet the car hasn’t moved yet. Hmph. I’m determined, darn it! My feet are goin’! And yet, my big visions are so frustrated right now. I want to do bigger, more, better, brighter, easier, cheaper, blah, blah, blah. I got the dreaming part down-pat. I’ve got dreams to spare too. (Want one?)
As a kid, when other girls were dreaming of hair bows and wedding dresses, it was my big dream to wear a black business suit with a pencil skirt, of course. And black pumps, with a black briefcase, and black-rimmed glasses. Yup. I was power-hungry at such a young age. Isn’t that sweet? (<–big giant glob of sarcasm)
I was sure I was going to be a big success. Instead of learning to knit, and playing ‘house’, I made pretend keyboards, and pretended to type, got scads of papers together and carried them around on a clipboard. Because I was important, you see. Oh my goodness. This kills me. How we change!!
In my 20’s it was pretty much the same concept – business suits, except they were red, and blue and khaki. And I think I even smiled every now and then. I started as a telephone operator and worked my way up to a sort-of apprentice business position. I had it ALL together. But then again, thats what we all thought in our 20’s, no?
Now. In my very cynical OLD mid-thirties, I dream of wearing dreadlocks, bikinis (I can dream!) and henna tattoos. And ironically, I work at home on my laptop. 14 hours a day. See how that doesn’t fit? There’s a little something missing in my day after/before/ during my waking hours.
What do they call that thing? You know – that place where dreams live? And happiness and hope for the future thrives? The place where satisfaction and creativity stems from.
Oh yeah,
LIFE.
I gotta get one of those.
Before its too late.
Social Networking is the sincerest form of flattery.