Why I Miss The 9 to 5 Grind More Than The Job

I’ve been out of the workforce for about a year, and while it feels beyond awesome to have 24 hours of the day all to myself, there’s a nagging condition that envelops me whenever I’m visited by images of what life was like when I was part of the New York City jungle fest.

No matter how much I try to suppress the deep layers that are fighting for air, the time has come for me to accept the fact that I miss the 9 to 5 grind.

I don’t miss the shitty job at a private bank, that positioned me in the prime slot of being the corporate slave, who has to support the head of the team as well as his sub-team for the reward of zero bonuses and deferred raises.

But I do yearn for the benefits of the momentum, that groomed me with the tools we all rely on for a disciplined existence.

When you’re caught up in the very demanding role of juggling a day job and the passionate pursuit of a writing career that you’re certain will overtake the shitty title of “executive assistant” in the near future, there’s a level of precision and efficiency that naturally develops.

As much as I hated where I spent majority of my time during the work week, that mandatory daily practice was the catalyst for how I successfully attacked all the pending items that were linked by the need to make a…