It’s Sunday night, and I always feel low on Sunday night. I have to go back to work tomorrow.
I know I’m not the only one who feels this way. I’m not big on Facebook, but I check it out enough to see plenty of comments from friends who dread going to work. One friend made the comment that 90 percent of the people she knows hate their jobs.
That is sad. That is depressing. We spend so much of our time at jobs. To be unhappy with the job affects a large chunk of life.
I don’t quite understand my own feelings, because the job I have is probably my favorite of any I’ve ever had.
I write, take photographs, ask people questions. I learn new things and meet interesting people. I get to do a variety of things, because I also help with layout and editing, and I update the website.
Sometimes I do feel bored. After working for a weekly community newspaper for a while, I sometimes feel like I’ve already done this story, I’ve already taken these pictures. Just different names, different faces.
And the writing that I do is not what I would choose on my own. It’s what I have to do.
I wonder if some of my waning interest in my job has to do with the anxiety I’ve been feeling about writing. It has gotten worse over the last six months or so.
I dread starting a piece, and I procrastinate. I feel uptight as I write, worried about every word.
Being accurate and fair are the most important things in writing for the newspaper. I worry a lot about getting something wrong, even though I know I’m making every effort to get it right. And I’ve been complimented by people that I’ve written about (e.g. government officials, law enforcement) that I do a good job.
It reminds me of my agonizing times writing school papers, so afraid that I’d plagiarize, even when I did everything I could to cite everything correctly.
Certainly, dread and anxiety are not fun feelings. Procrastinating and waiting until the last minute only prolongs the agony and pumps up the anxiety.
What I have found recently is that when I just focus on getting it done and doing my best, I seem to feel a little better.
Note: I am still very focused on being accurate and fair, but I’m trying to relax more about the quality of the writing itself.
I still don’t want to go to work, though. I would love to stay home and do my own writing full time. I would also do a lot of volunteer work and do more at home. See, I have it planned out. But that doesn’t seem to be a possibility right now.
Have you ever felt like you should love your job but don’t? What do you do about not wanting to go to work? What effects have OCD or depression had on your working life?