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Happiness Journey

“Stop the hamster wheel — I'll get out!”

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The good old hamster wheel... who doesn't know it? The alarm clock rings at 6 o'clock in the morning, you torment yourself out of the bathroom, force yourself to the necessary “restorative work” (shower, turn strange hair knots into a hairstyle, cover eye shadow needlessly with concealer, apply a little mascara, blush and lipstick), a half-way office outfit from the closet , hastily drink a coffee and maybe sling down a toast or a cereal - all kind of sluggish and half-hearted, accompanied by the constant look at the clock and the thought “Boah, I have no goat!”

“Stop the hamster wheel - I'll get out!”

Then it goes on: you grab the handbag, which feels like half the household, because you know that you only come back home in the evening and want to be prepared for all eventualities in between. Also, the stack of waste paper (pizza boxes, boxes of various online orders in all sizes and shapes) should slowly leave the kitchen, so the large waste paper bag is hung over the left shoulder. Oh yes, after work, it goes even further to aqua fitness, so that the office back can recover - so also the large sports bag has to be hung over the right shoulder. The attempt to drag everything to the car at once fails already in the stairwell: the boxes spread out funny on the steps of the stairs, the sports bag slides directly from the shoulder, while the lunch box falls out of the handbag (which, of course, cannot be closed by a zipper anymore, as it crosses) and while you frantically collects everything again, you just think “It's just to puke!”

Finally arrived at the car: Everything is loaded into the trunk, you get in - and with moderate success try not to touch the car with the clothes, because the last car wash is a few weeks ago... in the few free time that you have left, nullities like a car wash have to be at the very rear. Even if you are constantly annoyed that the car is constantly wearing the color “matt grey-brown blossom yellow”, although it is actually painted in black metallic. Then it goes on: engine on, gear in - and first of all leave school children and other pedestrians, whose path passes the driveway. In between, an annoyed look at the clock again and again. After a trip of 30 minutes (it could be 20 minutes, if there were not garbage trucks, school buses, construction sites,...) you finally arrive at the office. Great, on the parking strip there is still a big gap free. Quickly turns in the side street - and zack - in the beautiful large parking space another car has made itself comfortable. So you curve a bit through the area - the clock is of course not left out of sight - and finally arrives at the office. Actually, you already feel leaky and tired before you have your coffee cup at the desk and see the piles of files that need to be processed. The office work then runs as usual: rolling files, making phone calls, solving the big and small problems of the customer. Actually, nothing worldly or very stressful. Nevertheless, you have the feeling that every phone call and every look into the files are taking more and more energy. Finally it's lunch break. You eat something quickly, maybe go for a walk and let your thoughts wander again and again to the files that are still on your desk and in the spirit leads all the calls that have to be handled after the break. These are usually the phone calls you deferred in the morning. Calls with conflict potential, to which you simply could not overcome. There are questionable inner dialogues (indeed dialogues, not monologues... there is a kind of inner voice that likes to play the role of the interlocutor and say many unsightly things...) in which you think through all the scenarios that of course always end with the worst case.

Once again at the desk you notice that the phone calls you have postponed were actually harmless. Usually everything goes well and you get annoyed that you have messed up the nice break with the negative thoughts. You can breathe a breath again and notice that the back and shoulders are completely tense, the head hurts from working on the screen and the fatigue at 16 o'clock is full. You are no longer particularly productive, but still customers call, “running customers” come by and a wide variety of correspondence needs to be done. You think, “Why the hell am I doing this to myself?” Arriving more and more at the limit, you squeal to the packed sports bag and ask yourself “Should I really go there right away?” If you were looking forward to the evening sports lesson, it now appears only as an additional scourge.

But it is all of no use, because of fear of eventually suffering a herniated intervertebral disc, you catch up after work and drive to the swimming pool. The sports group is a colourful mixed group of women of all ages. Some of them have children and work only half a day, some are already retired. Enviously you hear how they tell you that they had an ice cream with their girlfriend in the afternoon, or went to the zoo with their children. You can only dream of it yourself. How nice it would be to spend the afternoon in a different place than the office! Instead of looking at the screen sitting in a cafe and chatting with your girlfriend - a dream! A dream that unfortunately can only be realized on vacation... and it is still far away. You feel sorry for yourself, then it goes in the shower and finally off to the pool. The movement is good and it's really a lot of fun! You no longer understand why you had the feeling that you just didn't make it to sport before. After you sit out in the car again, a look at the clock brings you back to reality. Almost 9 o'clock! So late? At home, the sports bag still needs to be unpacked. The wet swimsuit wants to be washed through and hung to dry. The wet towels must also quickly get out of the bag and everything else must be back in place. Then you take makeup off hastily to finally sit on the couch at 21.3o. You want to have a little bit of the day. You pick up the book that you have been looking forward to for so long... and - it was clear - after two pages you are in the land of dreams, the book slams on the laminate, teacup before... you are awake again, quickly wipe the tea off the floor and think, “This was my evening now? This is my life for the next 30 years?” There are almost tears of self-pity and one wonders if one is actually the total mourning rag.

And the answer is: YES! You're a pity rag! And it has to be different. How? That's gonna be clear. From now on, it says, “Stop the hamster wheel, I'll get out!

2 Antworten auf „ “Stop the hamster wheel — I'll get out!”“

Thank you for commenting on my article! I´m sorry that it took me so long to answer. I hope you and your family are well and stay healthy in these hard times we have to go through.

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