I currently have two jobs. My main job is a nine-to-fiver and then some. I don’t really know why I took on a second job. Actually, I do. When I applied for it, I had some serious acupressure bills to pay and I felt poor.
I’ve paid the bills now though, and am seriously questioning the wisdom of this second job. Sure, an extra hundred dollars or so every couple of weeks is nice, but I’m not sure it’s really worth sacrificing my weekends and evenings for.
I’m not a workaholic. I don’t think there is anything superior or clever about working 60 hour weeks. I actually tend to think that sort of thing shows a muddled set of priorities. (Obviously there are exceptions, like if you’re in massive debt to loan sharks who want to break your knees if you don’t pay up.) (That is not my particular situation.)
Money isn’t everything. It helps, of course. And it’s nice to have slightly more than enough so you can have some fun. But if you’re giving up your fun time in order to have that slightly more than enough, then it’s kind of counter-productive, isn’t it?
So how did I end up here? My sense of responsibility is warring with my sense of hey-this-is-my-only-life-and-what-the-heck-am-I-doing-with-it. What should I do?
What the heck? Who voted other and then didn’t elaborate? Jeez people.