ohbloodyhell8

The past few days have been filled with feelings of futility and mediocrity. In my previous job, several part-time gigs pieced together to create a full-time one,  each day ended and the job was over for the day. I had an easy way of checking my productivity. I could literally check my stats to see how many responses I had read that day. Very clear-cut and easy to see the purpose in the day’s work. My current job, not so easy. The specifics of either job do not truly matter. They are remotely related, but vastly different, to the point of making explaining them moot.

Yes, I still have stats to look at. I can still look at how many people had sessions in a day, the who, what, where, when and how…sometimes even the why. That is simply looking at numbers which is less the point of this job. The true point of my current job does not often seem to be appreciated by the higher-ups and the ones who attend the sessions typically don’t tell you explicitly how much it helped them.

Key differences in my life style with the changes in job are very easy to list (though I won’t list them all) and add to the feelings of futility and mediocrity. A lot less time at home. (Previous job was performed over the internet…yes, a thirteen step commute-truly missing that with the current price of gas.) I can truly say, without a hint of cliché, that my time at home is now more appreciated. It was always valuable-I just appreciate it more. I’m greedier with it now. The futility worsens on those days when I sit in my glorified cubicle seemingly making no difference whatsoever and wonder why I am not at home where I can certainly make a difference.

The sense of mediocrity is heightened by the sense that what I/we do in my department will never be enough nor will it ever be good enough. This judgement is passed down from higher-ups that don’t always fully understand what it is we do exactly. We try to explain, they parrot it back, but it’s off somehow. Like Brundle’s steak after going through the telepod, it’s their interpretation of what we do, but full comprehension is lacking.

One change in my life style that I cannot fix or find a balance for is the lack of time with my dog. He slept at my feet for seven or eight years while I would work. I can’t bring him to work-no “Bring Your Ancient Dog to Work Day” for him to enjoy. He has still not adjusted to Mommy’s new schedule. The cliché is true…you can’t teach an old dog a new daily schedule.  That’s one thing that I like about writing these musings. He has some time to simply sleep under the desk while I work.

Dogs don’t understand futility or mediocrity. He is always happy when I come home, when he gets a biscuit or when he goes for a walk. He’s content to have his belly rubbed. I need to figure out what it is about my work that is like a dog having his belly rubbed. The simple piece of the job that is always rewarding for me. I want my sons to witness a positive experience about work (or school). I suppose I need to pull myself up by the bootstraps and figure out the one thing that I can always connect with to have a positive day. Hmmm, wonder what that might be. It will be a fun mystery to solve. Perhaps that mystery alone will be enough.