Real Feelings on Work.

Sundays are the worst.

Monday mornings are a close second. The alarm goes off and I really want to hit snooze five more times. I already sleep as late as possible - up until a half-hour before I have to leave - and I still want more. But once I'm up and going, it's fine.

The drive isn't terrible, though I could do without the bathroom stops considering it's only a half-hour commute. As soon as I step into the office and settle in, I get through my day. Morning reports, finishing up yesterday's mail, filing papers. Suddenly it's lunch time, the mail comes in for the day, and I code and enter everything. I count the hours until 5:30.

But after a weekend of sleeping late, spending time with friends and Erik, and having a reprieve from my schedule, the hours go too quickly on Sunday night. As I clean up my room and get into bed, I get a mean case of the sads.

I've cried (only the tiniest bit) every Sunday night just at the thought of having to make it through another week. Mostly I mourn the freedom I had. That was always going to be the hardest part for me. Even if I loved my job, I would crave shorter hours and more time to relax. (Doesn't everyone?) It hits me really hard and I don't know how to overcome it.

Work itself is fine; it's the schedule I hate. Having to get in bed at 10pm. Waking up at 7:30 and still feeling exhausted. Feeling sick every morning on the way to work. Working for most of the eight hours I'm at work. Rush hour traffic.

It's as if I'm not cut out for the 9-to-5 grind. Would it be better if it was something I loved doing? If my office was closer to my house? If I could work different hours, still totaling 40 hours per week? I don't know.

That's what's difficult. I dislike it so much, but I don't really have a choice.