Captain’s Log 4,414
Several months ago, I carried on about people who whine in their journals. We all deserve a good whine now and then, and as long as we don’t make a habit of it, all is well. I have reached my limit on a few issues, and a good whine is most definitely in order. So here goes. Whine. Whine. Whine.
I work with the biggest bunch of whiny babies on the planet. I swear to God! They are almost to the point of running to me and saying shit like, “She looked at me!” or “He didn’t say goodbye when he left yesterday!” I don’t understand this. I don’t understand why people cannot take responsibility for their own feelings. Nobody is being victimized because of their race, gender, age, etc. This is all so damn childish I want to scream! And they are doing this right before performance evaluations and raises. That’s like acting up before Santa Claus comes down the chimney. STOOPID!
I fired off an email last night to the two biggest offenders to explain why I am no longer going to tolerate their shit. I explained in very nice terms that if they are not part of the solution, they are part of the problem. If they cannot come to me with a solution, I don’t want to hear the complaint. My challenge to them was stated as “What are YOU going to do to fix this?” I also said I was disappointed with their lack of gratitude for things the museum is providing for them. A fair wage, benefits, and the freedom to set their own schedule and work hours. I even allow people to work from home if the need is there. I bend over backwards to make their jobs easy and fun, and I am rewarded with nothing but crap. I am not their mother and I am not their kindergarten teacher. I am not responsible for their happiness.
When can I retire? Seriously. I am no longer interested in fixing things I never broke. My heart, soul, whatever can only handle so much. If I am going to give out so much emotional energy, I would like to see something in return. Perhaps it’s best if I leave the museum and spend that energy on something with a positive return. I could finally write that book that’s been in the creative queue for so long. I could travel. I could volunteer where my time is appreciated. I could find a geocache a day. I could find someone to go sailing again. I could paint furniture again or make wooden fences into wall sculptures. I could do mosaic again. Designing the perfect finch feeder. Reading in the middle of the day because I can. Play day gigs with Frank again because I have the time. So many things.
I know that one of the challenges of retirement is finding something to “go to.” People who retire without a plan for what’s next often become reclusive and unchallenged. I cannot imagine anything worse than that. I’ve been uneasy with all of this for quite some time. I certainly don’t want to make any rash decisions.
When I was younger, I loved working so much I could not imagine not having a job. How that perspective has changed. What’s truly meaningful keeps floating past your thoughts and feelings – all day long. Sometimes constantly.
The decision is blatantly obvious. It’s all in the timing. Turning the corner too fast isn’t always the wisest thing to do.