Dear Work,

Dear Work,

I can’t believe how fast five years goes. It seems like only yesterday I was hemming and hawing at your interview. The conversation went well, and you just hired me on the spot! Giving me a shot at a position I felt unwholly qualified for was a huge relief to my life and my budget. But quickly the obligation set in, and the pixie dust of feeling wanted turned into well, dust dust (it really is tough to keep your house clean. Did you know that I would be a mini-janitor when you hired me?)

And just like threading a camel through the eye of a needle, you tended to bring up seemingly impossible challenges. I pondered leaving you. I almost mustered the courage. But we were a perfect pair- you asked too much, and I obliged. I loved the addiction of getting things done. Anything that needed to be worked on. Too many things in fact. No one need ask, my drive was all for you.

And we were a team, you and I. You helped me to get ahead. Having little regard for a title or a job description. I filled your voids well. You had quite a few. When you fill a void as a person, though- sometimes you stretch yourself thin. Very thin indeed. You had me make great leaps when I would often choose indecisiveness and unintentionality-- causing small changes over a long period of time. I lost the illusion that you and Life were the same thing. I actually got to know Life pretty well, as I became friends with Friends.

I believe that our past is not that dissimilar to a lot of others, though. I did need you. I did love you for your messy, trial by fire ways and the problems that needed to be solved.

When I knew Life better, and therefore, my own heart, I learned you were more of a place to plant roots. To feel both safe but challenged, knowing I could neither drop the ball too much- else your entity collapse in at the seams, but began to learn the heart of the others you employed.

And Work, then I began to learn about them. Those that need love. That reciprocate in offers for food runs, and lighthearted stories of their weekend jaunts. The lives you bring together, dear Work, are who I care about now. The engineer in a huff that has that deadline that would not go well without us. The pride of the owners, in the quality and dedication of their spirits.

All the things the people in your house do, say, and think. They have taught me more. Driven me to more insanity and brought me peace in dark times. To push harder than I would have otherwise. My manic energy perfectly suited for a place such as your walls.

I love your role for me, amidst the messy, painful in-the-moment time of life I am in. Here I am, 5 years later still personifying you, hoping you’ll return the love. Grateful nonetheless. No other word for it.

I’ve decided to leave the fairy dust.

The most valuable lessons are in the real-life dust. People show up for the people they work for. For better or for worse. I used to love the concept of you, dear work. Now I love the crew.

Even when the crew changes, I hope I will remember that you are just a what, and not a who. And now, I work for them. I don’t work for you. And that’s just fine by me.

Love,

Me