@*&$%! Cubicle - Random Musings

I'm feeling a bit stir crazy of late. I don't know what's gotten into me today. I tweaked my back yesterday while taking my board off the top of the car. (Can you believe that shit? How do you hurt yourself doing that? I'm assuming I did something while lifting weights earlier and then exacerbated it while in the act of getting my board down.) No, I wasn't going surfing. I took the board to work so I could drop it off at lunch for the repair to that big ding. Hell, that's not a ding. I don't even know what you call that. Anyway, I was in pain all day yesterday. It didn't hurt to sit. It didn't hurt to walk. What hurt was getting up out of a chair. And let's just say I'm not the most static person when I'm at work. I look for reasons to jump up and walk around.

Where was I? (To self, "Don't know. Just keep typing.") My back is still a little painful. It's much better than it was yesterday. However, it's probably not feeling good enough for a surf session. Nonetheless, I'm sitting here pissed off because my day was spent in a cubicle rather than out in the water with whatever little swell that's out there.

Is it about balance? And what exactly is balance? How does one balance work, play, wifehood and motherhood when there are only 24 hours in the day? It's to the point of being distressing. I want more time to play. Mind you, I don't want to spend all my time at play. That gets old . . . and no one pays you to play. But why must so much of our time be given over to work? I hate it. I often feel like I'm spinning my wheels and going nowhere. Yeah, they pay me. That's the only reason why someone like me goes to a desk job every day. Apparently they think it's enough money to keep me satisfied or quiet or enslaved or something. (Sigh) I'm going to be brutally honest: I fucking hate this. I hate it. I'm good at my job. I like the people I work with. I'm bored to tears. There's no room for advancement. That was made perfectly clear when I was hired. The yearly raises are quite small. So, what? I'm supposed to stay there and like it just because I'm part of the rat race (i.e., child, mortgage, bills)? I certainly can't do what I'm doing for more than a few years. That much I do know. The job doesn't challenge me mentally. Then again, no job ever has. And that's my problem. I get bored, I quit. I get pissed off, I quit. I want more time to play, I quit. That's my modus operandi . . . or at least it was before Soul Brother #2.

Ack!! Bleh!! I gotta get my proverbial shit together.