Tuesdays at work wear me out. We have a doctor seeing patients and I’m there until 8 p.m. Then I come home and sit at the end of the couch where there is a stupid lamp with such a thick shade that the light hardly comes through it and that’s where I stare like a zombie at my I-Pad for a couple of hours. That little bit of light is very relaxing, and because of it I can say I’m not sitting alone in the dark.
Because I’m not. There’s my I-Pad. I catch up on Words With Friends and e-mails and Facebook and check out that there’s nothing new on Netflix and as a last resort play some Candy Crush. I drink decaf coffee. I read my current e-book. I am a barrel of fun.
Wednesdays when I’m off work, I always think I’m going to get a zillion things done, because, hey, it’s a whole day, and I’m off. So I sleep in late, mess around doing nothing for the entire morning (because seriously, I have the WHOLE DAY), do a repeat of Tuesday night with electronic time wasters, drink my smoothie, consume a lot of coffee, wonder what I should make for dinner…. Suddenly it’s evening. There are three days of work ahead of me, laundry becomes a priority, there’s no time for those projects I’ve been putting off until my day off. I am lazy and I like to procrastinate, and I excel at relaxing. You’re supposed to do whatever you’re really good at, right?
Yesterday, like most Thursdays, I worked early and got off at five. There are a lot of hectic people out there running around getting things done in a huge hurry with places to go and people to see and deadlines to meet and WHY IS THAT? Our contact lens student is one of them. She got her glasses dispensing licence, went straight into the contact lens course, accepted the position of teaching the glasses course at the same time, is getting married, buying a new house, looking after her son from a previous relationship and her future husbands son from his previous relationship, constantly doing nice things (like baking) for other people, and now she has accepted the position of manager at another store (the store is a ridiculously busy one and she has no managerial experience) and she will start that before any of all the other stuff is finished. She is twenty-six. And probably insane.
Someone asked me if I didn’t remember being young and ambitious and I had to admit I’ve never been that ambitious in my entire life. I want to tell her to slow down, don’t be so impatient, stop being so hard on yourself, get some sleep. I’m afraid she’s going to burn out before she’s thirty. And wonder where her life went.
And now it’s Friday and another full day looming, filled with trying to sell stuff to justify my pay cheque. I’m tired. And I haven’t even done anything, comparatively speaking. But I’m not twenty-six either. I drummed up enough energy to go and get my hair cut last night. That was pretty exhausting, sitting there listening to another twenty something pink haired girl tell me about her social life.
Yeah. I’m old and boring. And ready to pack in this working for a living crap and actually get on with living and doing whatever I want. And whatever that is, I want to do it very, very slowly. Because now I know life rushes by while we’re busy thinking about all the things we have to do to get to a place where we can do something else.
And now I have to rush off to work so I can get that over with and then I’ll be able to come home and NOT work. We’re all running around in circles. Sit down and let people lap you. It’s okay. That’s really all I’m saying.