Why your mind isn’t with you.
We’re only a few days into the new month, and work has been extremely busy recently.
There is barely enough time for anything else. Simply focus on the task at hand and complete it.
We had already been told to prepare for extra shifts, and holidays were temporarily restricted.
Then payday arrived, and you could see the difference right away.
Most of my coworkers walked around with their shoulders high, looking happy and ready to tackle whatever came next.
All of us had been paid for the previous month’s work. The salaries seemed to give new life to the tired faces I had seen during the third week of the month. Everyone started smiling again. They appeared to have won the lottery, and I understood why.
Yes, money is blood.
It gives people energy, choices, and something to look forward to. But something strange occurred to me.
“How are you doing, Uju?”
“Is everything okay?”
I was asked the same question for the third time that day, and I had no idea why.
I kept answering the same way.
“Good.” “Yes, I am fine.”
Until the final person asked.
During our break, I approached him and we sat down at the same table. Because we seemed so close, I decided to ask him directly.
“You have asked me several times today if everything is okay. Why?” His response sent me straight to the restroom.
He said:
“Your face does not appear happy. You appear sad. You aren’t laughing or smiling. And you rarely talk to your coworkers, even when they speak to you.”
Really?
I hadn’t noticed it myself; I assumed I was responding normally to everyone.
I quickly apologized and assured him that everything was fine. “It’s just that my thoughts are somewhere else.”
“I understand,” he replied. “Take it easy, brother.”
After my meal, I went straight to the bathroom and stared at myself in the mirror for quite some time.
And I realized something I’d never considered before:
I had no idea the journey of my mind was written on my face.
People could see what I was carrying, even though I hadn’t told them.
Most of my coworkers were single. Those who were married frequently worked alongside their spouses. My situation was different. I have a family that relies on me, and this alters the meaning of a salary.
For many people, payday can bring relief.
For me, payday can sometimes mean watching money disappear before it reaches my hands.
Bills are waiting.
Food is waiting.
Responsibility is waiting.
And before I even receive my salary, the majority of it has already been spent, and I’ve been doing this for years.
I work and wait for payday. Receive your salary.
Pay what you owe and then restart.
There’s something painful about working your muscles day after day, week after week, month after month, only to end up with almost nothing left over.
Sometimes it’s not enough to buy yourself a small item. Sometimes it’s not enough to buy your kids a simple treat.
You can see the joy on your coworkers’ faces when they get paid. You want to feel the same way.
You want to feel renewed. You want your salary to provide you with the motivation to continue.
But what happens when the salary that is supposed to revitalize you turns into another reminder of how much you still owe?
That salary, which appeared to energize everyone around me, had the opposite effect on me. It became the reason my mind was elsewhere. The reason why my smile vanished. Why did someone look at me and ask
“Uju, are you alright?”
Yes.
I was working, earning, and receiving pay. But mentally, I was somewhere else, because sometimes the most difficult part is not working hard.
It is hard work knowing that the money you are working for has already vanished.
Perhaps this is one of the realities that people fail to see.
They see the job, the salary, and you coming in every morning, but they don’t see the bills waiting at home. They don’t see the responsibilities that come with each euro, or how quickly the money disappears.
And they don’t see the exhaustion of starting another month knowing you’ll have to do it all over again.
The salary arrived.
But before I could sense its arrival,
It had already vanished.
