I decided a few years ago that the only point to being alive is love. I mean, really, what better thing is there in the world than what you love? It doesn't have to be romantic love. You can love your friends, you can love what you do, you can love where you are, you can love yourself, and you can certainly love your children, if you have them.
I've always figured that, as long as you have love, you're good. But as I was thinking about it this morning, I realized that while I have love, I haven't been doing so good. I know that it must be no secret to anyone who knows me well enough that I've been pretty melancholy lately. It's not really a new phenomenon, per se. I have felt bouts of melancholy on and off throughout my life, some more severe than others. This just happens to be one of the more severe ones.
A lot of my friends seem to assume that the majority of the problem is my husband - an interesting commentary, I think, on how they perceive our relationship. They are, however, wrong. My perpetually patient and supportive husband is not the problem.
I think that a decent portion of the melancholy can be attributed to my homesickness for Portland, something which I'm surprised to still feel so strongly after 7 months. But the biggest portion of the problem is actually my job.
I hate my job. I hate my job so much that I literally dread going to it every morning and can hardly drag myself out of bed. I hate it so much that a part of me secretly hopes to get laid off, despite the fact that this would have a severe, negative impact on our financial situation. But that part of me doesn't care. That part of me can't stomach the thought of another minute of working a job that is as infuriating as it is pathetically boring and unfulfilling.
I've come to realize that I have never worked a job that I love. There have certainly been jobs that I have liked parts of - beloved co-workers, a fun atmosphere, accomplishments I've been proud of. But I've never had a job that speaks to my heart. I've never had a job that involves the things that I actually find interesting - sports, crime, history, reading, pop culture, politics, etc.
Really, it's kind of sad, when you think about it. I've spent 16 years of my life in the working world, and I haven't really enjoyed all that much of it. I suppose most people feel the same way. No wonder they drink so much and take so many drugs!
But I'm not interested in "medicating" the pain away. I want to fix the problem. I want to do something that I love. I'm not sure yet how I'm going to do it, but I'm pretty certain that I can find a way. Life really is too short to feel this miserable all the time.