Coldest Winter

The One With The First Day Back

I screwed up at work. I have no one to blame but myself. The things I'm passionate about I devour, but those I find tedious I avoid, until they cannot be ignored any longer. I think the only stretches where I ever get the busy-work done are the long nights, after 6PM is my time to tackle those things that have fallen off the radar - but by 6 I'm too exhausted to put my heart into it, and as my life gets fuller, the number of nights I spend after 6PM with time left-over for the menial stuff are few and far between. Instead I'm just holding things together. I always thought when I was in school that I would be good at work. Then I got to work, and for a while I was stuck in a little corner, doing well. Then I got a new job, a bigger job, and got stretched so thin that I burned out. Now I'm climbing back out, charred, and trying to remember what success felt like. Trying to figure out how the path before me can possibly lead to the hilltops I aspire to. The answer is either that I'm not a strong enough climber, which is one I refuse to accept. The alternative is the answer I've been avoiding: that I must forge my own path.