It's Monday and I had the day off. It's been a long, relaxing weekend since my last day of work at the vascular lab on Friday. My former co-workers, who I met for dinner and drinks, beg not to be reminded that they have a full week of work ahead and an endless summer of forty-hour work weeks, to boot.I am not capable of the nine-to-five lifestyle that many hard-working individuals, like the girls at the lab take on. When forced against its circadian rhythm my appetite turns ravenous and my body fatigued. Worse yet, it leaves me demotivated and unhappy. By forcing myself into an unnatural routine, with alarms that interrupt rapid-eye-movement and lunch breaks scheduled before my stomach growls, my body responds in a self-punitive pattern that resembles the single-handed fight scene between Jim Carrey's dual characters, Hank and Charlie, in the flick Me, Myself and Irene.
Now that I think of it, how do I survive this?!
First, many desirable jobs, especially those in the health industry, offer a set schedule instead of flexible hours. I like my work at the lab and the generous wage that I could not survive without. In addition, my schedule has been primarily part time, allowing shorter weeks and longer breaks between shifts. It is a luxurious lifestyle that I certainly do not take for granted. Finally, there is a tiny part of my psyche that loves routine, seeks out regularity, and thrives on the little extra organization that is demanded by a set schedule.
That tiny part is the "Charlie" in me that Hank is constantly trying to knock out.
After dinner, the girls scrambled to get home in a hurry. The relaxing effect of red wine and a full stomach was abruptly nullified by the realization that Tuesday is a work day and there is much to be done before the body shuts down for a night's rest. I could have stayed for another glass of wine or two, or just enough to leave that nagging, responsible Charlie in the dust that settles at the back of my mind.
Now that I think of it, how do I survive this?!
First, many desirable jobs, especially those in the health industry, offer a set schedule instead of flexible hours. I like my work at the lab and the generous wage that I could not survive without. In addition, my schedule has been primarily part time, allowing shorter weeks and longer breaks between shifts. It is a luxurious lifestyle that I certainly do not take for granted. Finally, there is a tiny part of my psyche that loves routine, seeks out regularity, and thrives on the little extra organization that is demanded by a set schedule.
That tiny part is the "Charlie" in me that Hank is constantly trying to knock out.
After dinner, the girls scrambled to get home in a hurry. The relaxing effect of red wine and a full stomach was abruptly nullified by the realization that Tuesday is a work day and there is much to be done before the body shuts down for a night's rest. I could have stayed for another glass of wine or two, or just enough to leave that nagging, responsible Charlie in the dust that settles at the back of my mind.
