I already broke my promise of "no more weekends". It has now moved to Christmas holiday. Did I not tell myself that if it went longer than 3 months, this was untenable? I'm now pushing 7 (in this job alone). I'm stuck in a "if I just get this one thing done..." mode. But there is always another thing. And, most unfortunately, there is always another deadline.
I'm so sad that my biggest fear came true. I stayed out of the clinical coordinator positions because I got burned so badly about 5 years ago. And I'm right back there again with an almost identical circumstance. I don't know why I think there might be a different outcome. I've already been here before.
I pick jobs the same way other women seem to always find the one abusive alcoholic in the crowd and decide he is a good mate. It's a gift I have. A crappy gift, but I suppose I gotta take credit where I excel. I don't excel in a lot of areas of life, but I got this one down to an artform.
Baker Creek Seed Catalog came in today. I'm not sure what I was doing while I was flipping through it, probably day dreaming of a gentleman's farm in a warmer climate and what I would grow. Awesome Husband walked in the room and laughed at me. I had some silly ass smile on my face and a far away look. He asked me if I was going to cut out the pictures of vegetables and tack them up in my cubicle at work.
Really I was just tapping into what I love. Dirt under my fingernails. Worrying over sprouts. Being connected to something other than tan walls and a tan desk in front of a computer. Sure, I am a cog in a machine that hopefully one day will make at least a tiny difference in someone's life. And I still cannot tolerate it one bit. I need to be outside. Not sitting so much. Creating. Making. Doing something tangible that I can actually see.
I hate to think that by Christmas holiday I will be so burned out from too many days at work that I can't get up the energy to be in my garden. I can barely look out my back door. The neglect of old plants, dead birds, messiness--well, it doesn't take a degree in Jungian psychology to see what reality I'm manifesting out there (and how I now hide from it).
I'm always waiting to reboot these days. I hope I do so soon. There is a fiddle calling my name, you know.