Today is Monday. I suppose I have to get some work done. I have no interest in work. I do not have the energy or compassion that it takes to assist others with the problems in their lives. Why would anyone want to have me help them?
My desk is stacked with files. It is not nearly as full as it was a week or two ago. I spent a day more or less organizing files, putting them in alphabetical order at least. Now I have a much easier time finding the file that I need. I have boxes and boxes of old files stored in my basement. I have at least a hundred files in a cabinet in my office. Hundreds of people. Hundreds of problems. Hundreds of sad situations. They are weighing me down today.
All that I really want to do is sit in my big comfortable reading chair and escape. I could spend days in that chair, reading from the stack of books kept on the table next to it, looking out the window at the river, or watching television once in a while. It is in my bedroom. I could sit in my jammies, have a cup of tea, a snack here and there, and I would be set for several days. Weeks maybe. Would there ever be any real need to leave?
It would sure beat having to try to solve the life problems that others dump in my lap, expecting me to solve them.
Maybe all of this self pity comes from having enjoyed two days in a row with my granddaughters. I could definitely be retired or ” voluntarily non employed”. I could keep very busy. I would not miss working at all. I might find volunteer options to focus some attention when I needed a distraction, but that might not be very often.
My granddaughters and I always have fun, but don’t do anything big and important for the world. Now that they are moved into their new home, I visited with house-warming gifts and spent some time reading books, building houses with blocks, and rolling around on the floor with them (and the dog). The good life.
But, it is Monday morning. Here I am at the computer. I will work. I will take on the tasks needed to do this job. I am actually pretty good at this job, or so I am told. I just don’t have any passion for it anymore.
I want the good life, please.
Just My Life 
You sound so jaded, just plain burnt out. Compassion fatigue is very real and totally understandable. Wish I could do something to help but here is a virtual hug and lots of sympathy:)
By: sweffling on February 28, 2011
at 12:24 pm
Yes, I am jaded. Thank you so much for your thoughts.
By: chlost on February 28, 2011
at 7:37 pm
A task that is never completed, but seems to grow in complexity and misery is a daunting and unwelcome task indeed. You cannot fix them all, you cannot fix some of them ever, but some you will make a big difference in their lives, maybe turn them in a new direction and save them. You commented on my blog that just the pictures made you sick and that you are a wimp. I must disagree. It takes a very strong woman to do the job you do. Just reading about your work makes me feel wimpy!
By: RustedGranny on February 28, 2011
at 2:30 pm
Thanks for a wonderful pep talk! I did make it through my Monday just fine, I was feeling a bit sorry for myself earlier.
By: chlost on February 28, 2011
at 7:39 pm