Yesterday I sludged through the day wearing waders, up to my chest in quicksand, mind racing.
I love this job I am so lucky to have. It’s paying the bills and then some. The work is meaningful. But I’m six months in and still feel like a novice much of the time. Last night I found myself awake, staring out a dark window, reminding myself of what had to be done today–phone calls, emails, reports, field work. How to fix the mistakes I made last week. Thinking I should be working right now.
This morning it dawned on me. The problem is not the job. It’s not any of the stuff I’ve been blaming this stress on. The problem is still me forgetting that it is not my job to be perfect at anything. It is my job to do the best I can while being as grateful as I can. Oh, yeah. I can do that.