Work
Every day, millions of Americans slough themselves off to work for eight hours pluch lunch. People will sit at desks in cubicles, spending hours staring at monitors, watching life pass them by out the window that their supervisor gets to keep to themselves.
I am such an American. I sit at such a cubicle.
We as humans have this funny thing inside each of us called "Spirit". Some dub it as "Free Will," or "Soul," or "Ki,"or something off-the-wall. This is the mysterious energy that keeps us going. It's what gives artists the drive and the inspiration to create masterpiece works of art. It's what makes cancer patients miracuously recover from their diseases, when all other treatments failed. It's the je ne c'est quoi in all of us.
For some of is, it's the only thing that gets us up and out of bed in the morning and keeps us going through the day. Sadly enough, when "some of us" go spend eight hours a day sitting staring at cube walls and computer screens, that spirit starts to fade a little.
For me, I call that phenomenon being bored to sleep.
Daily, during the afternoon, I have to take a short break and go somewhere quiet to close my eyes for a while. The droning on of the day has drained me dry of all energy, and I can't make it through a full eight hours without needing a recharge. No matter how hard I fight it, I'll end up sitting upright at my desk with my eyes closed and a soft snore escaping my nostril.
People think I'm a partier, and ask me what I was doing the night before. Some sympathetic kindred parents understand that when one is raising a toddler, especially when single, sleep is scarce. But the real truth of Boredom Fatigue Syndrome is an unspoken reality known to all people in my position.
Of course, nobody would ever go to their employer and say "my job puts me to sleep, do you have something else for me to do?" That seems like instant unemployment medicine. Well, my middle name is Nobody, and I went to my employer and requested more stimulating work.
Sadly, the lesson I learned is that increasing the volume of work doesn't necessarily increase the stimulation.
I now run more reports, carry more responsibility, and involve myself more in the major projects when I can. I spend more time in communique with management at both the offices I work at. And sadly enough, about an hour or so after lunch, I find myself checking out again.
My places of rest are growing thin as well. At the office in Simi Valley, there is a break area with tables and comfy chairs. I used to be able to go there and lay my head back, put my feet up, set my alarm on my cellphone for ten minutes, and get my proper zone-out dosage to get by the rest of the afternoon. But the more I go, the more I run into people who just want to talk to me. Now the lonely man I am appreciates the conversation, (rant)but I'm trying to fucking sleep and you won't shut your yap!!!(/rant)
I understand now why people go postal. I sympathize with some of the people who bomb office buildings (okay, so the CIA will flag me under the Patriot Act - whatever). Granted the raise and promotion would be cool, but for now a fifteen minute nap would be ideal. In Kindergarten they used to have a mandated nap time. Everyone would have milk and cookies, and the teacher would read a story, and the whole class would lay on their mats for a quiet session. Why not do that in the workplace??
*sigh* I guess it's not an ideal situation anymore.
Every day, millions of Americans slough themselves off to work for eight hours pluch lunch. People will sit at desks in cubicles, spending hours staring at monitors, watching life pass them by out the window that their supervisor gets to keep to themselves.
I am such an American. I sit at such a cubicle.
We as humans have this funny thing inside each of us called "Spirit". Some dub it as "Free Will," or "Soul," or "Ki,"or something off-the-wall. This is the mysterious energy that keeps us going. It's what gives artists the drive and the inspiration to create masterpiece works of art. It's what makes cancer patients miracuously recover from their diseases, when all other treatments failed. It's the je ne c'est quoi in all of us.
For some of is, it's the only thing that gets us up and out of bed in the morning and keeps us going through the day. Sadly enough, when "some of us" go spend eight hours a day sitting staring at cube walls and computer screens, that spirit starts to fade a little.
For me, I call that phenomenon being bored to sleep.
Daily, during the afternoon, I have to take a short break and go somewhere quiet to close my eyes for a while. The droning on of the day has drained me dry of all energy, and I can't make it through a full eight hours without needing a recharge. No matter how hard I fight it, I'll end up sitting upright at my desk with my eyes closed and a soft snore escaping my nostril.
People think I'm a partier, and ask me what I was doing the night before. Some sympathetic kindred parents understand that when one is raising a toddler, especially when single, sleep is scarce. But the real truth of Boredom Fatigue Syndrome is an unspoken reality known to all people in my position.
Of course, nobody would ever go to their employer and say "my job puts me to sleep, do you have something else for me to do?" That seems like instant unemployment medicine. Well, my middle name is Nobody, and I went to my employer and requested more stimulating work.
Sadly, the lesson I learned is that increasing the volume of work doesn't necessarily increase the stimulation.
I now run more reports, carry more responsibility, and involve myself more in the major projects when I can. I spend more time in communique with management at both the offices I work at. And sadly enough, about an hour or so after lunch, I find myself checking out again.
My places of rest are growing thin as well. At the office in Simi Valley, there is a break area with tables and comfy chairs. I used to be able to go there and lay my head back, put my feet up, set my alarm on my cellphone for ten minutes, and get my proper zone-out dosage to get by the rest of the afternoon. But the more I go, the more I run into people who just want to talk to me. Now the lonely man I am appreciates the conversation, (rant)but I'm trying to fucking sleep and you won't shut your yap!!!(/rant)
I understand now why people go postal. I sympathize with some of the people who bomb office buildings (okay, so the CIA will flag me under the Patriot Act - whatever). Granted the raise and promotion would be cool, but for now a fifteen minute nap would be ideal. In Kindergarten they used to have a mandated nap time. Everyone would have milk and cookies, and the teacher would read a story, and the whole class would lay on their mats for a quiet session. Why not do that in the workplace??
*sigh* I guess it's not an ideal situation anymore.
you should suggest a brief yet invigorating session of snooze...you could call it, the brief (yet invigorating) session of snooze! or just session of snooze for short. if that fails...well, i guess you might consider investing in a station wagon...stocked with a waterbed
i dunno...maybe you should just go postal
[Edited on Aug 21, 2004 7:14PM]