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Mon | February 05, 2007
monday's lament
I am unable to deal with even the smallest of work problems. I collapse at the first sign of trouble. I have like 280 questions to edit and I can't do it. The time constraints are too strict, 2 hours per ten questions. Sounds like it could be doable, 12 minutes per question. But it includes answer choices and explanations; it's a lot more than just a question. It's more than traditional editing. I'm fairly intelligent and experienced; if I can't do it is it really me? I had the same problem with the question bank last fall. or whenever it was. I didn't enjoy it for that reason. Despite it being more the type of work that relates to writing and is thus in line with my goals. For that I am grateful. But the time constraints, thinking of them makes me cower in bed in the morning. Then I don't even do any of it. Today I am going to do some. Maybe one per day this week. It seems like nothing, and most people would look down on me for not being able to work two hours a day. But when they are at work they are doing other things. They are just hanging out, living. At home I am doing the same thing. But I don't get paid for it. And when I am at work I am working my ass off. Which is why I suppose it's good that I don't work there. I don't think I would know how to hang out. To not work my fingers to the bone, for something that will never really benefit me directly. And those two hours, are padded all around with hours of gearing up to it and recovery. Because the time constraints are so strict that I feel like I have to really be ready before I can do it. So I hang about for an hour before finally doing it. Yet all this winding up and winding down time doesn't get billed, of course. And yet I lose it to this work.
All I can do is hope my problems go away. Brace myself, finish the ten questions of the day, and then try to recover. It just really isn't enough time. I could be doing this full time, this mass of documents that's being treated as small change. But hell if I know how to convert from contractor to full time. I don't even know if I would want to. Waking up at 7 am to get to the train station, then sitting there all day, and listening to them loop through the same inane conversation- I could very well go nuts. Of course, sitting here, day after day, without health care, I could die. Or worse, bankrupt my parents first, with the hospital bill if I get in an accident or contract some illness, and then die, of misery, depression, sadness, disappointment.
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