The image reminded me of what some of my own ancestors must have gone through, leaving their ancestral homes, never to return or again see the family they left behind. I can’t even imagine how hard that must have been. The Eight of Cups is a card that tells of turning our backs on something, running away, leaving something behind. I think right now I’d like to run away from my job, even though I know it would be a mistake. The pay is good, the benefits are good, the environment is pleasant enough. I can’t say I care for most of the people I work with, it’s an odd atmosphere in that respect. I’ve just never been so stressed about a job in my life. I don’t know that it’s worth it. Even if I could find another position now, it wouldn’t look good to bail four short months into this. That’d be hard to explain in an interview. I should try to tough it out for a year, anyway. I’m sorry to whine and complain, I’m fully aware there are people out there who have been looking for work for a long time (several of my co-workers from my last company who were laid off when I was are still unemployed), and I should be grateful to be working, and I am. I just can’t like this job. I was excited about it before I started, but it’s turned out to be nothing like I was expecting, nothing I was prepared for.
Weekends go by in a blur, and before I know it it’s Sunday evening and I’m already dreading Monday morning. I’m increasingly frustrated that I have so little time to write now. If the commute wasn’t as long as it is, and I wasn’t so completely drained by the time I get home at night I might be able to get something accomplished. NaNoWriMo isn’t even a remote possibility this year, even if I wanted to participate. I’ve got enough in the works now that I couldn’t justify signing up for it again anyway. Good thing, because I just don’t have the time.
I should look at it as a new beginning, but all I want to do is run away. I know, it’s childish. I need to just pick myself up by my bootstraps and get on with it.