Thursday, August 25, 2011

Counsellor a physical job?

I'm not sure how my job has become so physically taxing. I listen to people for a living. I facilitate groups, which in and of itself is not physically taxing. It can be emotionally draining. Peoples' process can get deep, heavy and serious. And that itself is tiring. It stretches the soul.
This past week we've taken our guys to a lake/camp. I didn't even drive there. I got out of the daily drive for my shift by coming clean with not being able to drive on major highways without O2. I just wouldn't have enough O2 for the drive there and back on my little refill tanks. So, I went with my boss for the day shift - which meant I needed to not "sit around". Shit, even walking slowly outside for more than 15 minutes is something I can't do. So when did physical stamina become part of the job description?

Last month I applied to an agency closer to me - one that's also unionized and funded in part by some government agency. I did not even get a call-back. That was odd.
I am not sure what I'm going to do with this work - I can't just quit working altogether since we now have an even bigger mortgage than before (with this new bungalow). Yes, la femme can carry it on her own, but I'm not like that. I've been the type of person to have a few ongoing contracts, most of the time. Besides, we have a lot of expenses just with this new house. We're the type of people that don't like debt. I've payed my car mostly upfront. (These modern-day "don't pay a cent..." is unwise).

I'm exhausted. So much so that I'm seriously thinking of walking away from my college teaching (also done on the side). If I walk away this semester, just to take a break, they will never call me back. (No one else teaches what I teach, so it would really screw them). I know how they work there. I'm not sure I'm ready to cut ties with higher education forever - but I'm not sure I can do it anymore. I never wanted to be that woman (with the heart condition) in Beaches that sat on the beach, all frail & dressed in white, watching people involved in life (but not actually participating). Yet all I long for lately is that lawn chair to relax.

I'm tired, feeling weak and have hit my wall - when it comes to packing. I can't do it anymore alone. La femme has been a big help, but she's got her own house to pack and is currently very occupied with that - as she should be. That leaves me coming home to a never-ending pile of stuff that needs to be boxed, boxes needing to be moved, etc. etc. This is exactly why I did not want to move. All of the physical work. I need some time off work and I won't actually get any until the end of September (with the exception of labour day).