You know I used to blame it on my job…

I used to blame everything on my job. Then I changed jobs. Then I changed jobs again.  Then I realized that I just hate working, period. I have learned a lot over the past few years, namely that

-the money isn’t worth it

-the wasted time at work isn’t worth it

-the people I work with, for the most part, aren’t worth it.

The only minor pleasure I get out of working is the money, but to be honest, I don’t think the money can replace the fact that I waste ten+ hours a day doing something that doesn’t further me in dunya or akhira.

I used to think it was just me and that I kept falling into jobs full of sadistic psychopaths.  While I definitely have had more than my fair share of sadistic psychopaths (if I work blogged I could tell you stories that would make your skin crawl) it’s not the jobs. It’s me. I’m not the victim. I just hate working in the dunya.  I could have the perfect job where I take two hour lunches and leave at 4:30 and my boss buys me chocolate and tells me I am queen of the universe and I would still resent working.

I actually feel better now that I have come to this conclusion. It helps me to channel my frustration and think about what I really want.  Obviously what I really want is to not work period but that is not an option in the real world with bills to pay. I do know I have to stop fixating.  At six pm I have to disconnect and not reconnect again until nine am the next morning. I already give those people too much of my day.

I have to keep the promise I made to myself when I changed jobs- if work starts interfering with my personal goals, be it something as stupid as my sunday workouts or something as serious as my writing and other hobbies, I need to say stop. I have already started turning my cell phone off.  My phone is off on the weekends. I am not reachable, period.  That is a big step for me- six months ago I had a crackberry and was working at ten pm, working on Sunday mornings, blah blah. No more. I don’t have the title and the clout that go with working more than nine to five so I am not going to do it. Now I need to stretch this to evenings. I need to leave at six instead of six thirty.  I am going to do something in the evenings totally unrelated to either decompressing or chilling out or thinking about work. I am going to DO something actively completely different, like language classes.  I want to fill my weekday evenings with more substance rather than just coming home and being pissed off that I have been up for twelve hours and have to go to sleep in two hours. 

I need to stick to my plan. If I was going to fall back into the same patterns I should have stayed at my old job.

That said, I am not in the mindset of “ooh working in the dunya is bad.” I know bills need to be paid and I know I need to do my part.  I don’t want to sit back and spend DH’s money (however I do enjoy scaring him with various online fatawa about how I need to stay home). I don’t want to live on government assistance, which is what a lot of European sisters do in my experience.  What I am really complaining about is that I am having a hard time finding balance.  I want to work enough but I am tired of work being all I seem to do.