Tag Archives: Rants

All Work and No Play

11 Oct

… makes me an uninspired, uncreative, dull, dull, dull girl.

Don’t get me wrong; I’m glad I have a job. Maybe even lucky. But lately, my job has left me completely drained – of energy, of time, of creativity, of inspiration. Every day, I go to office, put in eight hours (sometimes more) of my time, my energy, my talents, my heart, my mind, my LIFE.  And at the end of the day, I feel I am left with nothing but fatigue and frustration.  I have nothing left for God, for my husband, my friends, my family, even myself.

I know that part of the problem is my own perfectionism. It kills me to have to deal with mediocrity. (And that can almost be taken in a literal sense, as my intensely high daily stress level surely is doing nothing good for my health.) But every day, mediocrity is what I deal with. On top of that, the people I am surrounded with don’t seem to even notice it. So, every day, I take it upon myself to “cure” us (by us, I mean the media company I work for) of mediocrity. And I’ve realized that I CANNOT do that anymore. I can’t take it upon myself to “fix” everything. I just can’t.

I need balance. I need ME back. When I leave work, I need to LEAVE work. No more taking work home every weekend. No more stressing out during my vacation time and being unable to RELAX because I’m worried about this project, or that impossible deadline, or this article that I need to finish and to perfect. No more skipping workouts or turning down social invitations because I’m exhausted, because I’ve spent too much of myself on work, work, work. No more. I’m done. Done.

Well, until the next time I lose sight or my priorities and lose myself again. Help keep me accountable, will you?

51 Items

20 Feb
I went to Walmart. I bought 2 storage boxes and a 20 oz. Dr. Pepper. With my 3 items, I got into the ”Speedy Checkout (20 items or less)” line. The very “well-to-do” lady in front of me had 51 items in her shopping cart. I know this because the lovely (I really mean that; she was great.) cashier, who was probably grumbling under her breath about how “some people” think they can do whatever they want without any consideration for anyone else as a long line formed behind us, told me so as soon as Ms. 51 Items was out of earshot. She then apologized and went on to explain how she is not allowed to kick people out of her line because they have too many items (a fact of which I was previously unaware); it’s company policy. “I don’t mind checking her out. I got to stand up here and ring up items regardless of how many there are. It just gets on my nerves because I know people like that are inconveniencing all my other customers, you know, the ones who follow the rules, and I can’t say nothing, not nothing,” she says while I nod my head in agreement. “You know what I think they should do. I think they should charge you 5 cents, yeah, 5 cents for every item you go over the limit. That’s what I think. Maybe stop some of this nonsense. 51 items.” (I think I heard an amen from the choir.)

She finished ringing up my 3 items, and I swiped my debit card and I headed to my car. Along the way, I passed the 51 item lady. Her Escalade (which did not have a handicapped sticker or mirror hanger) was parked in the handicapped parking space closest to the entrance, and she was hurriedly tossing plastic Walmart bags into her car griping to her daughter about how they had to hurry on because they had an early flight to catch in the morning.

Ah, adventures at Walmart, the paradigm of corporate America.