The Reluctant Career Woman

So it turns out that I had the flu. That might be why I was feeling so tired or maybe because I was so tired is why I got the flu. Anyway, this was the worst flu I have had in years. I was actually running a fever and I'm sure I haven't had a fever since I was 12. This flu included the twin joys of the shivering chills and burning up hot flashes, as well as a crippling headache and the seal cough. Oh the joys of having kiddies in the house. I know they brought this home to me.

I had scheduled Friday off as a vacation day, but ended up spending it on the couch. Becca, was feeling back to normal and of course she couldn't understand why I didn't want to play with and entertain her. (The kids are on winter break and didn't have school Friday)

Thankfully, Annie (the original version with Carol Burnett) was one of the free movies being offered On Demand and she had never seen it. I put that on and she was happy and I could lay in misery without interruption for a couple hours. Then her "real" mother came to get her for the weekend and Dave came home from work feeling just as crappy and we spent the rest of the weekend in misery together.

But what I really want to talk about is work and why I think that my getting this flu is just a symptom of my exasperation and exhaustion associated with my "job". I put that in quotes because I think that my employer thinks it should instead be called my "life".

What started all this crap was a conversation I had with my boss about two weeks ago that has been nagging at me and I have been obsessing about ever since. Basically, what happened was that we had a meeting with one of my subordinates that took a lot longer than planned. By that I mean it was scheduled for two hours and it lasted about 8. So around 4:30 we are sitting in the conference room and he (my boss) and he (my subordinate) are dicking around checking their e-mails and some other shit and I am getting ancy because we have not even gotten to the meat of what we are supposed to be talking about.

And so I kind of snapped and said, "Look what are we doing here? Let's go over this stuff because I can't stay here all night."

And my boss said, "Why? Why can't you stay here all night? I stay here all night."

And that is where I break down and cease being able to verbalize this shit. I think it would take me a month of posts to unload everything from my brain into print.

In a nutshell, I work with all men. They all have wives who stay home or only work outside the home part time. They are in that office every second of every day. In fact, sometimes it seems like a competition. They like to talk about it like they are sharing war stories.

“Hey, I was here until midnight last night.”

“Yeah? Well I was in here on Saturday for 12 hours.”

And on and on and on it goes. If I am leaving at 5, they call me part-timer. I hate it. It makes me really mad.

I feel inadequate. I have never felt that way at a job before. But most of the time I brush it off. I use sarcasm which has always been my friend. When they make comments about me leaving “early” I ask them what they are planning to make for dinner. That usually shuts them up or solicits some sort of mumbled answer about how they cook on the weekends (yeah right).

But of late, I have noticed myself spending more time at work and less time at home. Even if I’m doing personal stuff at work, I’m there so they can see that I’m there. I leave my house at 6:50 every morning and usually am not home until 6:00 or later that evening. I feel compelled to check my e-mail at night. It's been bothering me for a while and the conversation with my boss is what pushed me over the edge. So they really think that I'm not working enough, huh?

I feel control slipping away. I feel trapped. The money is good, I don’t have to clip coupons to grocery shop (which is a good thing because I wouldn’t have time to anyway). [Side note: If I work the hours those guys are working then the money really isn’t all that good. Then I’m making .72 cents an hours] The economy sucks; everyone knows there are no jobs out there so I should be thankful that I have this one, right? I mean why am I being such a whiner, shouldn't’t I buck up and do what has to be done? I am good at my job. I feel like the fight is in my mind. It isn’t that I don’t want to work at all, I just want to have time to have a life.

Is it different for my colleagues because they are men? Don’t they want to see their kids or spouses? Do they feel as trapped as I do, but deal with it differently because of their gender or is it that they don’t want to go home?

I told Dave yesterday that I feel like a slave. I want to have a baby, but I don’t think my body is going to allow me to get pregnant when I am this stressed out. It does not seem conducive to conception or a healthy pregnancy, does it?