Being at my place of work always evokes mixed feelings for me. On the one hand I’m excited by promise of learning, education and broadened horizons. I love the buzz of the diversity of people and cultures. I love the feeling of being in touch with the world.
But how long can one live on the whiff of a promise? It is said, hope deferred makes the heart sick.
It’s been an interesting few weeks back at work. I miss my girls. I miss being the captain of my own time. I miss not being at anyone else’s beck and call, well other than my darling girls.
I’ve slipped back into the routine fairly easily. I’ve been here a long time after all. Things I didn’t want to have to remember have come flooding back. Problems I wished someone else had solved. Limitations, barriers, inequity, bureaucracy.
I’ve been trying to put my finger on it. Is it just because I’ve been here for such a long time? Is it just that I don’t know how to get on with certain people?
I know I don’t want to play the games and politics. It’s just not who I am.
I’ve found myself questioning a lot of things since I came back. There’s a thread of, “What’s the point of all this?”, running through everything I touch.
I had an interesting talk to with a new colleague the other day. I think he nailed it for me. Maybe this place does not gel with my values. And maybe I can no longer ignore that.
I’m linking with Jess from Diary of a SAHM for IBOT.