Quiet day

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I'm taking a day off work, because yesterday just figuratively killed me.

I generally work somewhere in the neighbourhood of four to six hours per day. (And I am down on the books as a part-time employee, for what it's worth.) Yesterday I worked almost nine hours, and got home so exhausted I could barely eat dinner.

I like part time, even though I don't make as much money as I am accustomed to getting. In all candidness, I have been asked repeatedly to go full-time, but I have turned this down every time it comes up: I don't want to be full-time again.

The reason I like being part-time so much is because I have time for myself, and self-care. Without it, I was quite literally running myself into the ground. I spent more time working off of my phone, or personal laptop, than I spent doing personal things at home.

So no, I do not miss being full-time, salaried, and basically THE ONLY I.T. person at the company.

Oh, I'm still the only I.T. person, but at least now I have my "core hours", during which I am available to all-comers. (I am still working on enforcing this, as I am terrible at standing up for myself, but days like this help a little.) My family and therapist keep telling me I'm pretty much nuts to stay at this place, and a good portion of the time I have to admit they have a strong case.

But I seriously like having insurance for medical care, and rent money. Call me crazy.

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Categories work, mental health