It’s been 7 months since I started working here and let me say there have been some ups and downs, both in my performance and feelings. ( I know right, I have the emotional talking stick so you’re just gonna have to sit in the sharing circle and listen until it’s your turn).
It takes a little while to find your place in any new job, but I had an extra pressure (slightly self inflicted) of never feeling like I could give any less than 100%, because the last thing in life I wanted was to make them regret taking me on. This is still something I struggle with daily because the thought puts so much extra pressure on me, it sometimes gets in my way. This daunting pressure I put on myself means that I get easily frustrated when I can’t do something perfectly the second time I do it, which leads to a decline in my work. It knocks a wheel off and you get mad for not being able to roll well. Yes, I realize how ridiculous it is to subjugate one’s self to that kind of pressure, and let me tell you that it has it’s colossal downsides.
Starting out, I was working almost full time at this and another job. Not wanting to disappoint and the guilt trip of a life time lead to me trying not to leave my other job, but do both. Big Mistake. I was starting work at 6 30 am till 1 30 pm, then my next job at 2 pm until 9pm; then I go home, get a few hours of sleep, and start it all over again. While this may seem odd to your average beaver, I was the eager kind, and I thrived on a packed schedule. Long story short, I pushed myself to the point of losing sight in my left eye, and the joints in my left arm and leg locking up. I then, in all my infinite wisdom, finished the wedding order we had, closed up shop around 10pm, and promptly made my way to the hospital down the street…
…To find that it’s emergency room had closed at 9pm. So I sat on the steps real quick and had your good old fashioned, run-of-the-mill breakdown. Oh yeah, the crying, the sobbing, the shaking, the “sitting down in public place where you usually wouldn’t sit but your body wouldn’t let you move elsewhere”. It was a good one. While still half sitting, half lying on the concrete wheelchair ramp outside, I called the health helpline and was told it was fatigue, and to get some sleep. So I did just that (honestly, I did!) and woke up the next morning with perfect vision and full mobility, so I went to work. By the time the 8 30 am rush hit, I was vomiting uncontrollably. This continued for about a week and a bit.
It’s crazy. It’s like working 12-16 hours a day, 6 days a week takes a toll on your sanity and physical health. Who’d a thunk.
I want to say “Needless to say I quit the other job”, but the old me would have still tried to make it work. Ahhh, I love the smell of maturity in the morning.
Instead, I chose to give Fred and Ludo all my attention, effort, and energy. Because even telling myself that’s what I was doing at the beginning is a bald faced lie. or is it a bold-faced lie? Well for emphasis, this was a bold-faced bald lie.
Point is, things are progressing.
Ravens and Goldfish 