The Buck Starts Here

I have been trying to think of something worthwhile to write about and to be honest, I have been so tired lately that even the thought of thinking about it was taxing. I decided I could no longer allow boobs to define my blog though, therefore I will offer my mundane, daily incites to entertain the one, possibly two people who read this.

I should note at this time that I fully intend to further discuss some of the traumas that have made me who I am today, as intended when I started this thing. But, please understand that I am pooped and adding mental pooped to physical pooped is an all together new level of pooped!

I've decided that part of the reason I am so tired is because I do a hell of a lot more than a lot of people where I work. We, like every other industry in the country, are experiencing some financial "set-backs." I've been rather easy-going about most of it, knowing that I am relatively young with little say, in addition to the fact that I really can't do anything about it. If there is one thing I've learned, it's to only worry about the things I can control (wisdom that did NOT come easily, and unfortunately was acquired through many tough lessons). However, today, I became slightly embittered. I sat down and reflected on all of the things I have not complained about versus all of the things I have a right to complain about. I then began to think about all of the people who do complain and really don't deserve to. I mean, I am not going to point fingers and say that I am in a worse situation than anyone else. The economy has effected us all, and it is not my business to ask each person about their level of impact. However, today I really began to wonder what I am worth - in the literal and abstract sense.

There are studies out there that talk about how much a stay-at-home parent would make if they earned a wage equivalent to the sum of all of the jobs they do. I don't think I am necessarily looking for that kind of price tag, but I think it would be interesting to figure out my hourly wage, how much I am "supposed" to work (does 9-5 exist in anything other than a song?), and how much I actually work. I don't think my level of satisfaction would be any different - I love my job - but I do wonder if the people who are in charge of my salary, and everyone else's for that matter, really comprehend what a deal they are getting? Do they see worth beyond dollar signs or am I the one with the wrong definition?

I don't intend to harp on this for too long. Bitter is not becoming. But I do wish people would recognize that there are some of us out there who don't necessarily care what we are getting paid. We do what we do because we want to and whatever we make is enough as long as we can make ends meet. I just want someone to say "good job" every once in a while so that when salary cuts or freezes occur, we feel less like a number and more like an asset. I want to know that I'm valued, because hell, I am a lot of bang for the buck!