I swear. Work just gets to me sometimes. I probably shouldn't let it. Everyone kept saying "you have so much in your life, why should this affect you so much."
Maybe I should introduce myself. My name is Victoria. I'm a quirky workaholic that has a cat.
Now, ask me that question again...
Seriously. I say work is my life and people give me this look like "you need to revisit that." That just gets me mad. I work so I can enjoy my life. I work so that I can afford things that make my life great. If something bad happens at work, there is a domino affect. There goes the money. There goes the fun things.
I would even understand this more if the people saying this were homeless hippies. People who actually believed in what they were saying to me about how work isn't everything, but no. The people saying it to me are professionals who live in Plano. Talk to me about this when you living in a commune in Denton.
Oh well. I've decided to immerse myself in some impressionists in Fort Worth for the day.
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1 comment:
Eh, you have to find the right balance, though. You can work to produce a comfortable living without selling your entire soul to the man. I don't think the consequences have to be dire both ways. You can live a very modest life and pay your bills and enjoy what you do - or at least have a job that doesn't rule your life.
My two cents is to always think of what your life would be at 65. Would you look back and say it was all worth it or would you regret something?
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