In which she complains, a lot
Forget everything I’ve previously stated — it’s the data-entry that makes me depressed.
I’ve been working on some data-entry, on and off, for a couple weeks now. I probably could’ve wrapped it all up weeks ago, actually. But because of that “on and off” stuff, it has now dragged along and I am stuck waking up to a pile of work everyday. Today, I will finish. Seriously.
Yesterday, between my two naps, I realized that this was it. Yes, Emily Gould’s article got me thinking and even chased my tail between my legs for a couple days. But it is the data-entry work that has led me to feel so bleh. Clearly, two naps in one day is a sign of something, especially for someone who often chooses sleep as a method of avoidance. It works, it really does! Until you wake up, and look at the stacks and stacks of work left to do. Then, the only thing that will relax you is a glass of wine, a smoke, or a shot of tequila.
But today, dear reader, I will finish.
That is, until the next shipment of data-entry work arrives in a matter of weeks and I am, yet again, in avoidance mode.
My job is wonderful (my day job, that is) — don’t get me wrong. I get to work from home (hence the often incessant blogging and internet surfing), which means I can spend as many hours as I want in my pajamas and no one will know. I can also bathe in the sun for a few minutes during my “lunch break.” And don’t forget the fact that I’m making enough money to finally start saving again.
But boy, this data-entry stuff really rumples my feathers.
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