I have a pretty intense job. I’m part of a tiny team in a big company with a small time-frame to deliver an essential part of the product. My team has been getting tinier and the workload has been getting bigger, as have expectations. I work hard and I work fast and I’ve been picking up speed, but this never feels like enough to reassure me that I will indeed get the job done on time. So I work late, I work from home, I work over lunch – and I get the job done.
This is all really intense and I do get an adrenalin buzz from it. This buzz drives my emotions in all directions. I experience extreme anger, frustration, sadness (I often cry on the job), and uncontrollable laughter. It’s a real rollercoaster ride. Throughout the intensity, there is one thing that pulls me through – Friday night. The night when I will get home and have a full weekend ahead of me. A weekend that is only mine where I can do what I want and forget about work (this is often not the case, I often work on weekends too, but I don’t think about that when it’s pulling me through). Then Friday comes along. That final push. And if all goes well, I work hard until late at night, but when I finally leave the office everything is done – there’s nothing left to finish off over the weekend.
As I walk out of the deserted office building, I do not experience the elation that I have been expecting all week. I feel incredibly low, depressed, bleak. I often start crying within 50 meters of my office. I try to reason myself – I wanted this all week, so why am I sad? The answer is a sad one. Because all I have is work. I have no family, no children, no boyfriend, no pets – nobody is waiting for me at home and the only one who can comfort me is me and I’m all washed out with nothing left to give.
Yet here I am on a Monday, with my big daunting workload and all I can think about is Friday night when I get home.