I haven’t thought about a poem to write today, but there are several things over which I’ve been musing the past few days. I’ve shared a bit previously about how I don’t feel like I have much liberty to complain/vent — even here, because there are too many factors that could come back to bite me in the booty, if I did.

I’ve also shared some frustrations about the apparent stagnation of my career and how I’m trying to reconcile those concerns with a genuine sense of appreciation for not only having a job, but even one with excellent benefits.

To be honest, I’m still trying to figure out that balance. An experience that I had last week seemed to reiterate what I have suspected for some time about the way internal hirings transpire, and the whole ordeal has left me feeling very frustrated. Even though I have previous experience in program development, budget management, volunteer training, career advising, public speaking and a slew of other skills (not to mention my current pursuit of a doctorate), none of it seems to matter, because here I am a grantwriter. Even though positions may come open for which I am well qualified, there are others at my level of the totem pole across campus who already work in those divisions who will get first dibs on the promotion.

I have locked myself in — quite literally, it would seem — to one function within one department within one division on campus. My staff of three have been “repurposed” to other roles within the division. I am a Director who supervises no one. If that isn’t supposed to make me concerned about the stability of my job, then I don’t know what it’s supposed to make me feel. People all around me — people I respect and admire as mentors — have fled left willingly, not so willingly or stayed and faced repurposing — even demotion.

Annual performance reviews are coming up, and although they’re never my favorite task (from either side of the desk), I have never dreaded one so much as I do this one. I have exceeded the fiscal year expectations for my department, despite the reduction in personnel, yet there is still the prevailing sense that whatever you do isn’t good enough.

There’s the type of burned-out feeling that is like a piece of bread left in the toaster a bit too long. You can add a little butter & jelly and mask the crispy parts. Then, there’s another type of burn-out that is like the drippings in an oven that smoke and smell bad every time you bake a pizza … and the only way to get rid of it is to scrape it out and throw it away.

I’m feeling a bit like a pizza these days.