March forward, please.

Besides the cozy cookies-and-carols of December and sun-baked (oh sun!), fresh fruit July, I have never identified feelings with months. I have never declared my love of a month in particular or similarly spoken against one. A week, maybe, a day sure.

BUT. That is all changing with March. Oh, March, how you vex me so. Literally a week longer than all of its brethren, its dull, rainy hours stretch out each workday as I check the corner of my monitor for the time. Monday evening, as I leave work, I am both relieved and thinking, three more days?

Our office has slowed considerably, in terms of volunteers, programs, and walk-in clients. Time stretches on in the windowless back office, and silence - broken only by the clicking of keyboards and mouses - seems to encourage wandering thoughts and frequent breaks to talk to coworkers and visit the kitchen. Even if the food is the same every hour and every day.

Those frequent breaks are even more inviting having made a new friend in the office, Rosie. As one of two new staff, she works in our office but actually answers another organization - in an awkward way she is competing with our staff for clients. Luckily, I am also disconnected as an Americorps volunteer. More importantly, we both insult and tease to show affection - ie we get along swimmingly.

You know, it just struck me how little I talk about the actual work I am doing as an Americorps member, volunteer coordinator, or programs coordinator. Yes, right now I am recruiting for a free nutrition class in Spanish, a financial literacy workshop, and organizing our Summer Food Program. I am at work on a manual so that the person taking my place has something much more comprehensive to guide them. But I have little desire to write about that.

What does it say about me that these things are not what sticks in my brain? That it is the process, rather than the products of my work that is most interesting? Is it because I deal with all these "helping the world" details at work and just want somewhere to voice my complaints (but then, Irene and I complain to each other regularly)? I think it is another marker that the work of direct social services is not my passion.

I have learned an incredible amount from this job, but perhaps the most valuable thing is learning what I enjoy doing and consider important. I have already realized that I much prefer improving organization, efficiency, and sustainability (and not in the hippie way please) to working with actual people. I enjoy analyzing what I am doing, what a system is doing, how it could be improved rather than plunging into a program because it's there. Sure, I'll run the program, but not enthusiastically. Unfortunately, volunteer management falls under such a category.

Irene asked me a few days what would make my last four months more enjoyable. She knows we have both been less motivated. At the time I couldn't come up with a satisfactory answer, but now I know and it seems so obvious: don't make me work on things I don't believe in.