I have an interesting coworker who is interesting (I phrased that that way on purpose, mom). He is interesting and he says interesting things and he thinks interesting things, and I think it’s because he’s a deep thinker. He also asks me deep questions. And I try to get give him well thought out answers. Also, right now, I’m deliriously tired, so if none of this makes sense, that is why. It’s like Sara on drugs. Seriously, go watch my snap chat story. Just kidding, I’m rambling because I’m tired.
Anyway, the interesting coworker gave me the idea to write about the 40 hour work week. We had a conversation about how it’s no longer sustainable. One family member used to be able to work 40 hours a week and take care of his family. Now, I’m the kind of person who enjoys being able to work, so if I get married I expect us both to work. |
My coworker believes the 40 hour work week has been turned into something to keep creatives from being able to do what they love outside of work, because they’re too tired. Which might be true. But I like to find jobs that I like. However, I currently am not in love with one of my jobs. And I work 60 hours a week and barely make it. And I’m delirious. If I say anything else it will be unintelligible.
Maybe I’ve made a mistake. Maybe I’ve gotten in over my head.
I’m done with being cut off or cut out. I’m done with being misunderstood. I don’t follow pop culture or church culture or people who might have something good to say. I know who I follow and what I follow. I’m not trying to be a constantly negative person, it just feels wrong in my heart when something gets over spiritualized.
I’m not making sense. And I might never make sense again. I might never do anything again.