I have a job that pays me fairly well. I have benefits. My husband has benefits. I shouldn’t complain, especially when there are so many people still without any job at all. BUT.
But, I’m miserable at work. I’ve been doing this for 6 years and while it can be interesting work, most days it just feels like taking a voluntary emotional beating. I’m exhausted every day when I get home, and not just physically, but emotionally and mentally. I hate this job. I hate that there isn’t any balance, that I have to work even when I’m sick and can’t ever be too far from my phone in case someone calls or emails. I’m completely at the whim of my clients, which, more and more often, means late night emails that need immediate attention. And despite the promises of my boss when I first interviewed for this job, there is no support for life/work balance. A lot of those late night emails that require immediate attention come from him.
And I feel trapped. Trapped because the job does pay well and it helps support us, and lets me buy some pretty shoes every now and again, and helps us fly to visit my husbands family. It supports me, but I hate it. And I feel guilty for complaining, but I hate it. And I find myself resenting it more and more because it takes all of my energy away from the thing I *really* want to do, which is write.
But life is expensive. I’m rather fond of having a roof over my head and a cocktail in my hand. So, I keep working at a job I’m miserable at. Because sometimes, you have to do what *have* to do, and not what you want to do. At least for a little while longer. Just a little while longer.