Sunday, September 19, 2010

When it stops working...

Since my job ended, I've found myself growing more and more depressed. Every rejection seems to hit a little harder, cut a little deeper. Every lead that just stops responding bothers me a little bit more. You'd think it would be the opposite, that I'd be getting used to the rejection but that's not what's been happening.

I've seldom left my home office except to sleep or use the powder room since Monday. And tonight it hit me that maybe that's part of the problem. The office is no longer a place of work, it's where I live.

And it needs to stop.

Experts tell you that if you have trouble sleeping that you should only use your bedroom for sleeping (and, well, other things that are legitimately bedroom activities... *ahem*) that way your brain gets trained to associate the bedroom with being a place you sleep. I would conjecture that the same lesson can (and should) apply to other areas of the home. I mean, certainly, there are rooms in the house that are meant to be multi-functional. And there are times when space constraints make it impossible to separate activities into specific rooms. (Ahh, how lovely it would be to have the money to have a house with a library and an office and a media room and a workout room...). But I think I'm losing my focus by living in the office.

So, I've cleaned off my desk and am going to try to turn over a new leaf. And try to actually be AWAY from the office a little more. I know it sounds counterintuitive to say that maybe I'll get more work done if I am in the office less, but I think that it will actually work out that way.

2 comments:

African Weight Loss Diva said...

I understand how you feel. please do not be depressed. All things happen together for good.

tixrus said...

Man, the working world is a rat race. I was twice spoiled by having an awesome job so I know it can be great. Nothing good lasts, the good guys run out of $$$ and go bankrupt while the sphincters who squander billions human potential make $$$ hand over fist. Go figure.