Seasons and Horizons

I thought I might get out of work early today.

Instead, I worked twelve and a half hours.

The day kept moving from one responsibility to another. Walks through the buildings, phone calls, questions, meetings, and things that needed someone to follow up. At one point, I rushed back to the trailer and got my computer running with about two minutes to spare before an observation meeting.

I had almost no time to prepare. We met for an hour and a half, and I felt good about the progress we made.

Lunch fit somewhere between everything else. I grabbed a piece of pizza and ate it while walking to the next building. It wasn’t what I had wanted to eat, but it was what I had time for.

There were good conversations along the way, too. I enjoyed talking with people during our walks. We got some things resolved. I could see that my effort had helped.

But by the end of the day, I was tired enough that I couldn’t remember the name of someone I normally have no trouble remembering.

Every day this week has been at least eleven hours. More than once, it has stretched to twelve.

And I keep asking myself: When do I stop?

I care about doing a good job. When something is missing, I want to find out where it went. When someone needs information, I want to give them an answer they can use. When I say I’ll follow up, I want to follow through.

I want to be competent. I want to understand the work and know that my being there made a difference.

There is satisfaction in getting something done properly. I can go home tired and still feel good about what I accomplished.

What gets difficult is knowing how much to give.

I’m willing to stay late. I’m willing to put in extra effort when the situation calls for it. But I also want to be able to leave. I want an evening that has enough room for a decent meal, some rest, and something of my own.

I want the hours and responsibility I carry to be reflected fairly in what I earn. That matters, even when I enjoy the work. A salary doesn’t make those extra hours cost me any less.

I’m still trying to find the right balance. Some of the pressure comes from what people ask of me. Some comes from knowing what remains unfinished and having a hard time walking away from it.

There is always another call I could make. Another question I could answer. Another thing I could check before leaving.

Tomorrow, I already know there are people I need to contact and material I need to track down. Those things matter. I’ll care about them when I get there.

Tonight, I wanted to write this.

This is my eightieth post, and I’m sitting here after a long day, trying to put words to something I haven’t fully figured out.

I want to keep doing work I can be proud of.

I also want enough time and energy left to enjoy the life I’m working for.