Tomorrow I am going for a job meeting, for the only response I have gotten this week out of the three places I applied. I don't feel wildly ecstatic, but I am going through it nonetheless, braced by my revived sense of adult-responsibility, fuelled by my being on the mend via medication and resolve.
I guess I am dampened by the horrible work year I have had thus far; I no longer expect much out of a job, and I see myself as a blue-collared factory worker literally in a blue uniform - dehumanised. My girlfriends once declared that our self worth is not determined by our jobs. I find that hard to realistically be lived out, because my work is so important to me, everything has to be right, problems have to be soluble. And so I try to lower my drive and expectations and lose my ecstasy.
And so, on I go, rationalising along the way and hopefully shake off my sloth even without the adrenaline rush of exciting work.
All the best. - D W
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