Envy

I find myself feeling envious of some of the people around me.

I know how lucky I am. I know that I’m so much more fortunate than so many others. And yet…I envy people their time. Those who have enough disposable funds that they can take Christmas trips, or take weeks off at a time to spend with family.

I wonder why some have so, so much and others have to work so hard just to make ends meet. For what it’s worth, I’m somewhere in the middle of those two extremes.

Maybe I was spoiled by the time I spent at home last year at this time. I’d just started my medical leave on this day last year. I was looking down a long road of not having to go to work each day, not having to think about what the weather was going to bring. I was there with my kids during their Christmas break. It was lovely.

But I’d also just finished with a job where I had four weeks of paid vacation and a full week of paid sick/personal leave which could be used in fifteen minute increments. I knew I had it good but I guess I just didn’t realize how good.

I’ve had to start over with a new job. This job is a good one. I’m lucky to have it. I am lucky to enjoy the work I do (for the most part) and to very much like my co-workers. But…there’s always a but.

But I will receive three vacation days next year; one in March, one in June and another in October. That’s it. There is no paid sick time. I’m lucky to have flex time, I can come in early one day and leave early another day in the same week. But it’s not the same as paid time away.

I will get ONE week of vacation starting in 2020 through 2023. Then, whee, I’ll get a second week. I know, this sounds an awful lot like whining. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful.

I am grateful to be working. I’m grateful to be alive and earning an income to keep my family clothed and fed and to help pay our mortgage. Of course I’m grateful that I will be able to provide a good Christmas to my family.

But I’m also finding myself a little bit angry with the way life has twisted and turned in the past year and I find myself in a job that I’ve had for a whole four months instead of a job I’d had for almost eighteen years.

I know. We all have to start somewhere but damn it, I’d started somewhere almost twenty years ago. I’ve paid my dues, why am I having to start over?

I know so many others (former co-workers, for example) are in the very same boat. I know this. But this time, misery isn’t exactly loving the company.

It sucks and I guess I just needed to say so.