It wasn’t that heavy, I rationed.
I held it in my hands, weighed it carefully, shifted it from one hand to the other, hoisted it up on my shoulders for a minute, and then held it in front of me like a pregnant lady cradling her stomach.
Only in my case, I wasn’t carrying a fetus, I was carrying shoes. Yes, it was a box of shoes, and a few other things. From my mother. Sent to me at work, per my own request, so that I would be there to receive it from FedEx. As previously mentioned, I spend more time at THE AGENCY than anywhere else, so I figured it would be easiest to have the box sent to my office.
Because I spend more time at work than anywhere else, I missed the bus.
Because I am too Lutheran to take a cab when I could just as easily walk, I decided to walk to a different bus station.
And because I am a bad judge of both distance and time, I carried the box of shoes from my mother across downtown San Francisco, approximately 2.4 miles, for about 32 minutes.
My box and I made it home from a 14 hour day, at about 7:30 p.m., and I promptly fell into a heap and cried.
My job is not going well.
I wish that weren’t the case.
I wish my blog were unicorns and cupcakes all the time, but that’s just not the truth. My job is intense, overwhelming, and very stressful, and I have some coworkers who manage to intensify all of the above to the point where I would rather do anything than go to work because all day long I teeter on the verge of a massive meltdown and consider housewifery as a viable secondary option to my current job, despite the fact that I am neither home owner nor wife.
That’s just life in the big city, I guess.
That’s what my mom used to say to The G and I when we were little. Don’t have cable? Tough – that’s life in the big city. Your brother won’t play Barbies with you? That’s just life in the big city.
Don’t like your job? That’s just life in the big city.
And indeed, it is. It weighs heavily upon me, my terrible job, and I feel like I may crack under the pressure at any moment.
And so, I am considering my options. Rationing, if you will.
Because right now, it’s up to me. I am holding my own life in my hands. Weighing it carefully, shifting from one side to the other, and hoisting myself up, not on the shoulders of anyone else, but on my own two feet.
And right now, there is nothing else to do but carry the weight, however many miles it takes, all the way across this city.