After an amazing weekend, I didn’t want to go back to work. I suppose most people feel that way—being an adult is a job in itself, and it’s exhausting. However, my reluctance wasn’t just “Monday blues”; it was because the atmosphere was a nightmare.
I had been there for only a month and already felt suffocated. No matter where I went or what I did, it was never enough. I received countless phone calls: “Where are you?” “Did you clean here and there?” The job wasn’t difficult—the tasks required only simple instructions—yet somehow, something was always wrong.
I knew the solution was to speak to my manager, but being new, I didn’t want to give the impression of being difficult or problematic. So, I avoided her whenever possible. But who can work like that?
From Monday to Friday, I was mentally drained, but as soon as I clocked out, I came back to life. I’m not particularly good at setting boundaries or having difficult conversations. But when you reach your limit, an external force pushes you to do what you should have done long ago: speak out!