I dreamt about work today. Work, work - not writing or raising my children. The boring, sit in a cubicle sort of work. And I realized that I hate it.
Ok, hate is a strong word. And the job itself is not terrible. It's the fact that I need it that makes me loathe it. I can't be free of it, should I decide that I just don't want to do it anymore. I'm carrying the health insurance for our family, not to mention that our bank account is in constant need of its own bail out.
Still, I can't help but feel like I was made for something more than the monotony of answering questions regarding 401K plans. And for that reason, my return to office life is looming overhead, reminding me that my life is not my own.
Ok, hate is a strong word. And the job itself is not terrible. It's the fact that I need it that makes me loathe it. I can't be free of it, should I decide that I just don't want to do it anymore. I'm carrying the health insurance for our family, not to mention that our bank account is in constant need of its own bail out.
Still, I can't help but feel like I was made for something more than the monotony of answering questions regarding 401K plans. And for that reason, my return to office life is looming overhead, reminding me that my life is not my own.
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