What was I made for?

Day in the life of a human.

It’s 9:00 AM.

I walk into an empty apartment. I dropped my son off at daycare - he clung to me, tears rolling down his cheeks, begging me not to leave.

I left.

And for what?

To come home to an empty apartment?

I sort the laundry. I do my thirty minute stretch routine. I take a shower, but nothing can shake that heaviness slowly crushing me.

It’s 10:00 AM.

I open my laptop, and pull up LinkedIn. I scroll through job listings, trying not to think about the 5,000 people who got laid off yesterday at Denmark’s biggest workplace.

I find a job that could be a match. I tick a lot of their boxes. Content creation experience, check. Project management, check. Social media marketing, check.

I use Chat to help me adapt my CV and cover letter. I feel empty as I write about my passion for document automation and cohesive branding.

I hit submit.

I check my email to see if I got a confirmation of my submission and find a new email from the recruiter I interviewed with last Friday.

We regret to inform you that you have not been selected for this particular position.

I copy / paste the email into Chat and ask it to write a warm response. I copy / paste the response and send it back to the recruiter.

I wasn’t excited for that position anyways.

So, why does it still hurt?

It’s 11:00 AM.

I’ve checked off everything on my to-do list. Now what?

There’s three and a half hours until I can pick up my son.

I don’t feel hungry but I know I should eat. I take out frozen vegetables and begin to heat them up on a pan, when I realize that I haven’t prepped the chicken or rice.

Tears prick the corners of my eyes. A little voice reminds me that I can always order a burger and fries. That always does the trick on days like these.

Does it, though? I snap back.

I pour rice in a pot with water and turn up the heat. I pull the raw chicken breasts out of the fridge and meticulously slice it into cubes. The meat sizzles when it hits the hot cast iron pan.

I sit on the couch and google “Best k-dramas 2024”. I look through the list and find one I haven’t seen. I sign up for the seven-day-free-trial and click play.

Periodically I get up and mix the chicken.

I get up to check on the rice. I get up when I hear the washing machine chime.

I shovel the rice-chicken-vegetable medley into a bowl and shuffle back to my computer.

When I’m done eating, I scroll Pinterest while the show plays in the background.

I ignore the tears behind my eyes. The heaviness that lays on me like a blanket of chains. The emptiness that has swallowed all my organs.

The emotions don’t surface until my husband calls and asks about my day. I’ve never been a good liar.

It’s 2:30 PM.

I pick up my son, hoping my mood will pick up as well.

No longer distracted by chores and screens, thoughts start swirling.

You got burnt out being a stay at home mom.

You’re applying for jobs that feel meaningless.

And now, you’re getting depressed when you have hours of time without responsibilities.

I feel hopeless.

If I wasn’t made for full-time childcare, working life, or unemployment,

What was I made for?