I have been enjoying the month of September. In particular, I have been enjoying the month of September becuase I have not had to show my face at my place of work. Yes, I had a whole month of vacation from my regular job. My POW gives us health insurance and pays into our retirement. The pay sucks and always has, but I get a ton of vacation and for the most part have worked with great people. For much of my life I have been a commitment-phobe, but when it comes to work I am the soul of stability. I’ve been at my POW for almost 24 years.

Once upon a time, back in the early 1980s to be exact, I was a happy undergrad who would have willingly stayed in school forever and avoided altogether the responsibilities of adulthood. The toughest thing I ever had to do in those days was to pick a major (and let me tell you, that was a tough decision. I changed my major six times, I think). When it came to the future and the thought of full-time employment, my spirit quailed. I managed to graduate by employing the carrot on a stick trick on myself – I swore that if I could actually bite the bullet and graduate, I would treat myself to a trip to Europe. So that’s what I did – I graduated and took off on a two month backtripping trip through Europe with my best friend. I came back dead broke and in need of a job, but also filled with a great wanderlust. So I looked for work that would be not too taxing but enable me to fulfill my true goal to travel the world. I found a job in academia that fit the bill. The money wasn’t great, but the benefits and vacation were fabulous and the responsibilities were slight. As the years passed, I did travel to a lot of places, but then something strange and unexpected slowly happened. The job that I took just to earn some money became a big part of my life. The people I worked with, the bosses who supported me, all these things conspired to make me really care about the job I did. I started to like working. I even went on to get a Master’s degree. I finagled my way into a new position that allowed me even more freedom and the chance to work more closely with good friends. Wow, life was perfect! And then things changed.

Partly it was me: after spending so many years in pursuit of the next great trip and not giving a whole lot of thought to long term plans, I suddenly realized I was 40 years old and had not got a lot to show for my life. I started thinking about stuff like retirement and a life beyond work. And work changed: new management started making changes, shuffling people around, doing more with less, taking a relaxed academic environment and trying to mold it into a more corporate model. We joked about annual reorganizations, but it was no joke – we really were getting reshuffled that frequently as the powers that be looked for more ways to tighten the purse strings. Meeting Chuck sealed the deal for me: my life outside work became the focal point; work became a thing I did to pay the bills.

So what does this have to do with Thomas Wofle? Well, I go back to work tomorrow and start packing my stuff up. While I have been out for the past month, another reorganization took place. But for the first time, I find myself more amused than irritated; more philosophical than frustrated. It IS just a job after all, and nothing lasts forever. You can’t go home again, and as it turns out that applies to workplaces, too.

So here’s my big lesson of the day: my life is a lot more than any one place, any one person. It is all the people and places and experiences that happen to me, good and bad. Everything, no matter how sucky, is part of that experience. Deep, huh? But here’s the kicker: I know I really believe this and am not just saying it because my stomach isn’t bothering me at all, and I’m not grinding my teeth in my sleep. Can it be? Is it possible? Am I actually growing up?

Naaah….