Since being included in the book Callings, I now sort of feel as though I’m being looked upon as the poster child for job satisfaction. And 99 percent of the time, it’s true, I am completely in love with what I do. That just makes the 1 percent rankle all the more. And today is shaping up to be one of those 1 percent days.
Even though I spend most of my time in blessed isolation, I am greatly affected by the bureaucracy of which I’m a part. And bureaucracies, by their very nature, tend to be idiotic at best. Decisions get made that have absolutely no relationship to reality or reason. People get more invested in covering their own behinds than doing what is morally or ethically right. Inconsequential things get blown up out of proportion. And everything moves at such a snail’s pace that you want to pull your hair out by the roots.
Frustration is not my favorite feeling. Days like this I want to live in a cave deep in the woods. (As long as I could have electricity, wifi, pizza delivery and a comfortable mattress.)
For many years I’ve wanted to invent a soundproof bag that one could scream into. I think I’d make a fortune. You could even use it in your little corporate cubicle. I think it would be quite cleansing to use one after your average staff meeting. (Better than a barf bag, at least.)
The best thing about my job is I’m rarely subjected to meetings. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to scream on occasion. But now, since I’m supposed to love my job every moment of the day, there’s added pressure not to scream. And that makes me want to scream.
I have a newfound respect for public figures. We hold them to impossibly high standards. Everybody has a bad day now and then. It’s part of being human. It’s cruel to expect someone to meet your expectations every waking moment.
Don’t worry. I’ll snap out of it. Days like today, I just do some of my more sweaty, strenuous maintenance tasks. That helps me purge my negativity.