I don’t understand why I get so anxious about ‘work’. It’s not only ‘work for pay’ but ‘work in general’. I don’t believe I work hard enough, long enough, intense enough to earn the salary. I don’t believe I work hard enough, long enough or intense enough here at home and elsewhere for no salary.
I would guess it was the childhood. If, I could blame it on those formative years for the anxiety I feel now. In those years, you were dubbed worthless if you weren’t working at something. Usually, that mean following the Man with the Gold around as he worked on his projects and my brothers and I cleaned up after him. I had an early morning paper route since elementary school and fast food jobs in high school. I don’t believe I was lazy but I always seemed to be on ‘the clock’ and not doing enough. Cutting the yard was the ultimate task, usually done several times a week, fighting with my brothers as to who cut and who bags. I always felt like I got the short end. I worked while they played.
“Look alive” was one of his catch phrases. Usually said when you were not doing the work quick enough for his preference. At one time, he claimed that if a person was sitting down he was worthless, even at social functions. So, my brothers and I stood up a lot during Christmas and other holidays.
Normal people would not feel this way about themself. Ugh.