Last night I set my alarm for work.
My girlfriend and I were readying for bed. I say readying, but I was naked, with the covers pulled up to my neck all cosy-like. I looked at my alarm. I thought out loud “I think I’m gonna set my alarm to 7am instead of 7.15. I wanna make sure I arrive early to prep for my shift.” She blinked and looked back at me, surprised. “Oh?” She remarked “that’s a big difference.” I thought to myself and agreed. I hated my last job. I dreaded going to work, knowing that nothing but disappointment and coffee were going to greet me at my desk. I’d think about the endless emails and urgent changes. I’d think about how we were permanently short-staffed, and the revolving door nature of the department meant we’d never not be. I’d think about my co-workers, and how much they struggled day to day. I’d think about how emotionally drained I’d be leaving the office, to have a break before heading back to do the same thing the next day. I’d think about my weekends, the desperate urgency that accompanied my reprieve from work. Most weekday mornings, I’d think about all of this before I even stepped out the door. I’d get up late, arrive when I felt like it, and leave early. I had no shits to give.
These days I think about what shows I’ll “get” to do, not “have” to do. I think about the kids with low vision who’ll get to watch cartoons because of my work. I think about my bike ride, my heart racing as I zip up hills. I think about my co-workers, all super friendly guys, who look out for one another and offer help whenever they can. I think about my bosses, who trust us as professionals and provide us with whatever we need to get our jobs done. I think of work life balance, and achieving it for the first time. I think of the difference between the unrealistic expectations of the past job, and the support I get in this one. I think of the specialised skills this job requires, the bizarre convergence with my own, and how much I’m learning. I think of how easy it is to get to sleep these days, without my brain freewheeling excessively. I think of how manic I was all of eight months ago, when I seriously thought I was losing touch with reality. I think of the constant cycles of negativity that used to reverberate around my skull. I think of the ex co-workers I still talk to, how they’re always in a state of crisis. I think of how much I like doing the work. Repeatedly doing retakes to get it right. I think about the complete lack of hesitation I have in staying late. I think of all this, and set my alarm to arrive early for my shift.
I think I’m happy, and I think I like it.