Feel like I’m going slightly crazy. It always ends up this way.
I start a job, I feel that initial elation. Then bump as the job isn’t what it first seemed. Then I get to know it and start to swim along more. Then the things that irritate me about most jobs start to become more obvious. I begin to spiral down. Into crazy. I find a small thread of sanity. Then by a miracle, I find another job. I remain sane for my last days and then leave. Then the cycle starts again.
My niggles are always the same. Being faced with pig headed people. Liars. Egotistical idiots. The hierarchy of organisations. Lack of ability to express myself creatively, or at all. Lack of acknowledgement of my abilities, skills, talents. Mundane work that I sleepwalk through. Lack of acknowledgement of how hard I work. I start to realise that I’m no longer a good choice for employee. I am now bitter and miserable. They need someone fresh. A Yes person. Someone who will follow orders, lick arse and go do what they are told without question. Someone who will be happy to learn aspects of the job that don’t interest me.
My time has passed.
I’m never a good choice. I have too many of my own ideas. I question everything. I want to know why things are done the way they are done. I want to change things. I want to innovate, create, design something new. I don’t believe in hierarchy by pay band. I want to learn new things, even if that takes me out of work temporarily. I want to do more, be more.
The bottom line is that I should be working for myself, for at least half of the time. Half of me wants some stability. I want to be among lots of people who I wouldn’t normally be around. I get to learn new things and have new experiences. I like to know I have X amount coming in no matter what. The other half of me wants to be accountable to my own efforts. I want freedom for creativity to make money on my own terms. My own way. I want to break the bonds that work has had on me. Break away from the fear of being faced with disgruntled ‘managers’ etc. I want to breathe my own breath for a while. Write emails because I want to. Just live my life my way. Not how it is dictated, because of a policy that says if I move my leg enough to expose a sliver of sock, then I need to buy all black socks so that no one may take offence or be distracted by that sliver. Good god.
Set me free.