“Love what you do and you’ll never work a day in your life!”
It’s such a beautiful sentiment, isn’t it? Of course, it’s also total bs, a fact I was all too starkly reminded of as I sat in a hotel conference room at 1:00 am after having slogged through the end of a long (although relatively pleasant) negotiation day. The room was freezing all day and I’d barely left it, getting updates on economic packages and drafting last minute language for review and presentation. Most of my food consumption came in the form of twizzlers and hot wings, and I was walking the floors of the hotel to stay awake. I was getting snippy and cranky, and I was exhausted.
I have my dream job.
But sometimes the things we love are not glamorous. The things we love are tiring, and long, and miserable, and they make us crabby.
We do ourselves a disservice to go around saying that the things we love will always make us happy and fulfilled. I mean, sometimes they do. And sometimes they just make us hangry. And I think that we, as humans, need to make our peace with that.
And I think even more, that we, as women, need to make our peace with that. We need to make peace with our own ambition. With the fact that it makes us tired, with the fact that it means that we don’t make dinner, and with the fact that a day full of miserable, exhausting accomplishment can fill us with pride. It’s okay to love work, even if it’s work. And it’s okay to chase work that you love, even if, at the end of the day, it feels like work. Work should feel like work.
And when we go home from a hard days’ work, we can just tell this face to stop jumping on us, because we’re going to bed now, and if it could just provide the snuggles without its usual drama, that would be great.