When is enough enough? I've struggled with my job for the better part of 2 years. I have days that I enjoy what I'm doing, what I've chosen to get up and spend 8-10 hours of my time working on is pleasant. There are good people, there are good challenges, there are laughs to be had and progress is made. I have had far more days that are quite the opposite. Days that I actually catch myself thinking - I hate my job. Days were I am in meetings and I think "can you please stop talking? Can you please just shut up and solve your own problems?" I cannot even count how many times in a day I catch myself thinking "I don't care." It's a very depressing and draining thing to realize that you're not living the passionate life you've imagined.
I'll be the first to admit - put my hand up and say - I am LUCKY! I have a job. A lot of people don't. I have a job that pays me well. A lot of people don't. I work for a company that provides good benefits and retirement options. A lot of people don't. I'm not saying it's all bad, my company is great. I'm proud, most of the time, to say that I work for them. However, I still find myself thinking about how much I hate my job. The little things, the petty things, the downright frustrating, makes-no-sense, nonsense that ends up eating a lot of time and more importantly personal energy.
When I'm in the middle of an angry frustrated fit of work, I'd gladly give up a couple grand in compensation to enjoy my days. I'd voluntarily give up some matching dollars in the 401K. Because when I'm in the middle of these bad days, there is not amount of compensation that makes it worth it. I say to myself, what if they doubled your salary? Would you tolerate it then? You bet I would! For about a week. Then, I know I'd quietly go back to hating it all. The glitter of the bigger paycheck would fade. The bank account growing at a steadier, steeper rate would not be as thrilling. I'd still be sitting in meetings thinking "I don't care."
Let me paint you a picture of what it is about my job that I find infuriating and down right trite. Waste management. No seriously, waste management. Like where do you put each piece of your trash. This is a big deal in manufacturing. HUGE in fact. From a production perspective we go through boxes and boxes of materials and pounds of plastic bags and bottles of ingredients and tubs of flavor. All those materials can be recycled. That is huge dollars for the company and even more important for the environment. I'm ALL about keeping the corrugate and the plastic bags separate and going to the recycling plant - ALL ABOUT IT. But when I'm told that I need to monitor where break room waste and bathroom waste is being discarded, I about loose my mind. I spent HOURS of my time, personal energy, and brain power dealing with grown men and women discussing where we put orange peels, and paper plates, and used feminine hygiene products. For weeks, I worked with my environmental supervisor to get signs and bins and trainings together so people knew how to handle their waste properly. Those are hours of my life that I'll never see again. That I was instructed by a corporate agenda to spend towards insuring that the plastic lids only go to recycle and the used tea bags with staples still go to the trash compactor. I about lost my mind when I found out we needed to add a special container for compost. *sigh*
One of my employees got hurt on the job last week too. So now I can kiss a lot of my time goodbye trying to recreate what happened, explain how I somehow failed as a manager to allow such conditions and behaviors to exist in my plant. We'll draft up some learnings and some corrective actions and we'll have a dozen conversations about how everything is preventable. And I'll bang my head against the wall for all the good these things will do. I'd really like if I could spend time worrying about something other than if someone is going to get hurt! Or someone is going to put their trash in the wrong container. Or if someone is going to be suspended for attendance because they've not turned in their paperwork for Family Medical Leave for over 3 months.
I think enough is enough. I really, really do.
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