A resolution

This is the last night of my (almost) two weeks of holiday.

This is the last night of my first proper holiday in ages.

It was much more intense than I thought it would be, and I think when I go back to work tomorrow, things will have to change. During the last two weeks, I travelled, and I had the wonderful opportunity to see some friends and some family members, and to realize once more that friends really are family members.

I had the chance to talk to friends about the topics that keep me awake at night, and by allowing myself to do that, I gave myself a rare chance to realize how miserable I feel.

I love my job.

I have always believed that there are two kinds of ways too relate to our jobs: treating them as a necessary evil, and integrating them into our lives and loving them. I love my job. I have always been the second kind. But there is something I realized, and it will probably sound trivial to most of you.

I may love my job, but my job does not love me back. When I wake up in the middle of the night, experiencing a mental breakdown, it does not hug me and tell me that everything is going to be alright. And I do wake up, and I do have these breakdowns, because the self-exploitation that comes with academia makes me take on duties that scare the hell out of me. It also makes me lonely to a degree I never thought possible.

Having had the chance to be reminded of how it feels to spend more than three days in a row with people I love, I have come to believe that this job does not deserve my love. And since I am at it: Probably no job ever does.

Tomorrow, I will stop loving my job.


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