The Dilemma of a Writer with a 9–5 Job
So much to write, so little time
I know it says 9–5 but it’s currently 1:40 AM, my boss isn’t around and I’m stuck here at the office wishing I’m sipping green tea in front of my laptop at home, cuddling with my dog, where there are no dead looking strangers who look like they would rather be anywhere else — like me.
This is the usual scenario in my head during office hours. I always wish I was at home doing something I actually love — writing.
To be completely honest, my office looks like the set of Walking Dead before everyone puts on their make up and it’s literally bugging my brain.
It feels inhumane to see people dragging their feet, doing things they don’t want to do just to make a living; and that makes me wonder what kind of society we have built for ourselves.
This isn’t a self-help piece though, the kind that would get noticed, the kind of writing that has 1–5 steps on how to make a million followers online.
I still have a long way to go to write articles about that, but a long road still gets you to your destination, it just means you can make more memories, meet more people, make more friends, build a stronger foundation.
It means you’re not taking any shortcuts, that sidetracking means you have more ammo for writing.
“ I know I’m going to be here, and now I’m here.”
That’s a line from a song that I listen to whenever my motivation to grind through my office job declines, it’s usually blasting on the 11th floor when the hours are lonely with a wish to fast forward to the scene where I’m sitting at the top of the mountain.
We all have this type of song, you know, the one that you imagine yourself singing at the top of your lungs when you finally reach your wanted destination, when the stars align and they finally pay off your hard work and determination.
It’s your song — the song you sing when you lack motivation.
This piece is mostly for me, as selfish as that sounds. This is to remind myself to keep singing that song, that no matter where I am in the world, no matter what the voice in my head is saying — we all know it gets loud in there.
A reminder to myself what it felt like listening to that song when I first made my first dollar from writing. It’s the song that will play for my first doubter who said that I have a far-fetched dream, it’s for the moment I first decided I want to do this, for all the night outs that I missed.
I’m going to keep singing.
I don’t know a single writer that didn’t start with a 9–5 job, that went straight to a best-selling author, that didn’t endure long tiresome shifts, that wanted more because whatever they were doing was a total bore.
Maybe there is at least one, maybe there is none but my point is to trust the process.
Trust that burning out is okay but so is taking a rest, that a writer’s block doesn’t mean your bad at this, that your song is louder than the people who tell you it’s not possible.
We just need to keep believing that all of our dreams are plausible.
This is just a piece to remind myself and hopefully everyone who stumbles upon this that we are not alone, and that even the greatest minds started with a blank slate.
A piece to remind everyone that a 9–5 job is part of the journey that can lead to that thing we always dreamed of if we play this right — passion that ignites our bones.
A piece to remind everyone that individuals are individuals for a reason, that no two paths are exactly alike; that the road to success is not a race.
For now, show up to work, make that coffee for your boss, prepare that PowerPoint presentation for your meeting but if you can’t scratch that itch to write, work hard and pay your dues and one day they’ll be paying you.
