First off, I hope everyone had a lovely Mother’s Day.
I had a lazy weekend for the most part. I did housework, but I also worked on world-building for a series I’m trying to kick off the ground. It’s going to be cool and I can hardly wait to hear what others think about it because oh the hopes I have! It’s amazing what a little excitement means to my overall feelings of optimism. I’m not the optimistic type, in case you didn’t know. I prefer grim, stark reality to wishing and hoping for the best. Reality is me thinking this thing is going to tank hard and I’ll be wearing the imprint of hitting the ground on my face forever.
We’ll see. Right now I’m too caffeine deprived to muster up much enthusiasm for anything but sleep.
But that isn’t even the purpose of today’s post. Nope, today is about commitment. Something I think I might have a little trouble with. You see, I realized today marks seven years I’ve been at my present Evil Day Job. It’s the seventh anniversary of the day I walked through the doors and sat at a desk, not my official date because I started as a temp. Sure, things have changed since that day. I’ve been promoted to a position that has convinced several coworkers that I’m a spy. Which I’m totally not. I don’t have time for that sneaky bullshit. I’m a busy person, y’all.
Yet the more I sit here thinking about my job and the fact that this is the only company I’ve worked at for longer than six years…yeah, I’m feeling the urge to move on. Is it the seven-year itch? Or just a misplaced belief that the grass is greener on the other side of the fence? However, just because there’s an urge doesn’t mean I’m going to follow it. That’s where being a “responsible adult” comes into play.
I can’t just pick up and quit my job. I have responsibilities. I want to buy a house, become debt free, put money away for an early retirement. By the way, is 40 too young to retire? I don’t have a chance in hell of retiring that soon, but it’s a dream of mine. Retired at 45! How awesome would that be? I could write full-time, go to conferences…*sigh* Okay, so sometimes I find myself hoping and dreaming of things that’ll never happen. I’m a writer. Go figure.
Anyway, seven years. SEVEN YEARS. Working for one company. I shudder and I try to forget about it. It’s a job, not a lifetime commitment, right? I can leave anytime I want. Right? *whimper* Okay, so it’s probably a good thing I’m not married. I like my freedom a little too much to be tied up that way. Unless Gerard Butler finally decides he’s going to stop being stubborn and see Cajun is the way to go. Then we’ll see.
Meh, that’s enough rambling. I need more coffee.
Happy Monday y’all