Burnout

I’m so tired. Granted, it’s 3:45 in the morning, but that’s not why I’m tired.

I’m tired of being up so early every morning. I’m tired of being the responsible one. I’m tired of giving a shit. I’m. Just. So. Tired.

Take today, for instance: a long work day with a short break. A long work day in a long line of work days. (I picked up a couple extra half days over the weekend). Now, I’m not complaining about working. I like my job, and even though I gripe about overtime the pay is nice.

But why is it so often? Why does it feel like I’m always working?

It very well might have to do with the other people who call out all the time. I’m scheduled for a half day to relieve some of the OT? Nope, someone called out, have to work the whole day…and when do I get a whole day off? Unless I request off months in advance or there’s a holiday where the office is closed, pretty much never.

I get so sick of other people being “sick.” Okay, so I don’t really know if they’re sick or not. They could have the sniffles–or they could be really, really sick. It’s just frustrating that I go to such lengths to come into the office even if I’m not feeling well but other people call out time after time. It’s exhausting, and it’s disheartening. I try not to pry into my coworkers’ lives, but what’s the deal? Are they really that sick? Are they just feeling under the weather, or not feeling like working? What gives? Do they even know how their constant calling out affects others? The stress of being shorthanded is enough to worry about without knowing I’m going to be working overtime yet again when my body sometimes can’t really take it.

I try to tell myself that it’ll be okay. Eventually, the ones who don’t want to work weed themselves out. Eventually.

Until then, guess I gotta buck up and take it like a woman.

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