Once we got into November the year started to droop. Seattle earns its reputation for bad weather in the eleventh month. It’s not just the rain but the wind storms and darkness. Once Halloween’s over we reset the clocks and the rest of the year is a throwaway. Many will trash talk it but I live for January, for taking back an hour of daylight and crawling out of the hole to more light.

Plus in January we get that sweet, jasmine-like flower blooming again on the Daphne Odora shrubs. (They start sooner than that on the islands.) The scent of fresh flowers in the dead of winter can be a life-saver; it smells like hope.

That year-end sagging feeling extends into work as people get sick this time of year and also despondent over the crappy weather and time change, the darkness that falls so soon. I learned this week my contract got extended until next September; this will be the longest I’ve worked the same job since 2016, when I started contracting.

They now call it fractional work, blended work, gig work, freelance work, part-time work, and so on. While Dawn’s been lamenting the transactional nature of it, I got disenfranchised years ago and don’t mind it. I love my work but know it will never love me back.

As I get to know some of my agency colleagues I realize others feel the same: they’re at (or past) their peak, disenfranchised, don’t care about doing the occasional monkey work, only do it for the money. Maybe it’s the need for status has passed. There’s a game a-play with work: you put in more to prove yourself so you can be picked to move ahead. When you stop caring about moving ahead you draw limits on how much you put in. Maybe that’s another reason for employer ageism: they know we’re onto them.

Despite the winds and rain, the dark, I still love November. It’s Thanksgiving for us in the States, my birth month. We put up the tree and lights at the end of the month and then the countdown begins. Just like Monday to Friday, we’re counting down to our next break.

There’s a game a-play at work but other ways to play it. I give it all in every performance, then walk away.

Categories: Corporate America, Creative Nonfiction

Tags: aging, journal writing, pacific northwest, work-life balance