“I hope it’s getting better,” people keep writing to me, and I can finally say yes, yes it really is. The huge hideous project at Job A was wrapped up this week. We didn’t quite make the deadline, and it was intensely frustrating to the very end, but it’s done. And I’m going to take some time to write a really thorough plan for how it must be done better next time, which probably falls in the category of “nice idea but no one will ever look at it”, but it’ll make me feel better, at least.
I also quit Job A, again. That is, although my revised contract runs to end of October, I told them I’m out at the end of September, regardless of whether or not they have a replacement. “You can’t just do that!” says Armin. “You should have done that ages ago!” says a friend. I agree with both of them. It’s confusing.
I also flaked out on the big event that was part of the huge hideous project. I went home ill. Was I that ill? No. Was I really needed at the event? Also no. I had done everything that I personally could do on the bits that I personally was responsible for, and I was exhausted to the point that my head wasn’t working properly and if I’d done the event, I would almost certainly have gotten sicker than I already was. So rationally, going home was the right thing to do. But I still felt (and feel) hideously guilty, because it’s also true that yes, in principle I could have stayed. It just didn’t seem worth it.
This job has been fun and awful and mostly just way too much. And everybody knows it’s too much, there’s a reason their staff turnover is ridiculously high. But I still have this feeling that I should be able to cope. What’s that about? Why the superhero complex? Work ethic is fine, knowing that I’m good at what I do is fine, but imagining I’m so good that I can deal with anything: that’s either very stupid or very vain. Or both.
ANYWAY. Only three more weeks and then I’m down to working 40%! This is so exciting! (And, wow. What a weird year I’ve had. From panicking that I’d never be employed again, to being thoroughly overemployed, to this. Finally. A grown-up job with the hours I want. Wow.)