As of today, I have officially been at my new "real job" for three weeks. And let me just say, I...am...exhausted! I don't have time to do anything! I'm tired ALL the time*. I've always been a fan of sleep, but now I'm a groupie. It's all I want to do. And then when I finally get to have my love affair with sleep, I dream I'm at work.
Because I need to afford to support myself and I'm not qualified for any job that pays me enough to support myself, I got a job as a receptionist in the mail room of a very large company so that I could work my way up to being able to support myself. So, naturally, I keep dreaming that people are bringing mail to my bed. (I sleep in my underwear, which adds a little extra excitement to the dreams because I keep flashing the mail delivery people...who aren't really there).
Add to my exhaustion the fact that I've come down with a severe case of writer's block. I feel like Creativity is being held hostage by Obligation and Responsibility (the nasty little bitches). At my last job I was practically begging for more hours. I was only being scheduled on weekends, I had all the time in the world, and I felt like a useless waste of space. Now, I work 40 whole hours a week. I am a regular, acceptable, functioning member of society. And I feel like a soulless robot. I realize that now I have the same schedule as 90% of the population, but that doesn't mean I have to like it! Remind me, again, what I hated so much about waiting tables?
*Last week at dance class, my instructor asked me how my new job was going. I said, "It's exhausting! I was not meant for full time!" He said, "You're more of a trophy wife, aren't you, Jen?" Wow, a great dancer and a genius. I call that money well spent.