Categories
Antiwork

I find myself… not a poet, at midnight at least.

I find myself needing to get some thoughts out while I wait. I find myself the optimist for 40 weeks of expected work and two days of expected silence. I find myself just back from vacation to hear about all the things that went wrong. I find myself knowing none of them are my fault, but I could’ve been an extra voice in their resolution. I find myself annoyed that my boss couldn’t wait until my vacation time was up to call me. I find myself grateful for the warning of a late-night shift instead of having me pull overtime. I find myself dreading a pay cut to continue doing the side of the job I like. I find myself hoping others on my teams will get a raise because of it. I find myself angry when my overworked coworkers are injured in the physicality of the job. I find…


I find myself needing to get some thoughts out while I wait.

I find myself the optimist for 40 weeks of expected work and two days of expected silence.

I find myself just back from vacation to hear about all the things that went wrong.

I find myself knowing none of them are my fault, but I could’ve been an extra voice in their resolution.

I find myself annoyed that my boss couldn’t wait until my vacation time was up to call me.

I find myself grateful for the warning of a late-night shift instead of having me pull overtime.

I find myself dreading a pay cut to continue doing the side of the job I like.

I find myself hoping others on my teams will get a raise because of it.

I find myself angry when my overworked coworkers are injured in the physicality of the job.

I find my own back beginning to ache again.

I find myself making up for their “lost effort”.

I find myself wishing people were recognized as people instead of metal and clockwork.

I find myself glad we are still there the next day.

I find myself caring about my teams, not wanting them to take more than their share of the burden.

I find myself needing to take overtime.

I find myself texting a friend about potentially meeting up this weekend.

I find myself conflicted.

I find myself stuck.

I find myself waiting for a train with an operatic violin oozes through the streets behind me like a dream.

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