That Day

12 years have passed, and what has changed?

Five states, five jobs and five apartments later, in my world you can say a lot has changed.

But after a miserably long commute, doubled in length by accidents I was mercifully not a part of and filled with not-so-sunshiney thoughts, I can’t say much is different.

I still work too hard in hopes of being recognized and rewarded. I still feel absolutely burned out and under-appreciated and unnoticed and expected to just keep giving, giving, giving till it hurts under the assumption that more is going to magically regenerate from within me.

Someone at another company said to me the other day that her team is motivated because they see a possibility of getting a bonus. And I’m like, Jesus Christ. I have been working around the clock and I’m out of steam as we close in on will-we-or-won’t-we on the bonus front.

I left a job I loved after working 100-hour weeks for a year didn’t result in a bonus. I might have stayed had I not had an opportunity to go. But … the company never did end up recovering financially.

The same can be said of the next two companies I joined. I gave gave gave and they took took took.

I don’t want that to happen again. I don’t want to reach that level of disengagement that I just can’t do it anymore. I just don’t see an opportunity to gather back my strength without fear of … well, everything.

It could very well be 2001 in my world. I have the same car, same 30 pounds I need to lose, same inability/lack of wanting to hold down a relationship, same … yearning. But for what, I still have no idea.

Every day is That Day. The details of what happened have faded, but the outline of what hasn’t continues to loom large.

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