I fear having such distraction, as might come from actual satisfaction in life, that I can no longer devote sufficient attention to work. Work is the prime mover; it is the source, and all else is a load and a sink, since I've no independent wealth. Management, of course, could make things worse, which seems to be their habit, but the greater danger is my own folly. I should not be browsing during business hours, for example; I should be poring over the latest file.
I do not worry much about being forever alone; I've become used to it. At age 43, moreover, I begin to look forward to age taking me even further from my male peak at 18, to where togetherness looks like a quaint but avoidable option. Did not Schopenhauer or someone like that indicate that marriage is "twice the resposibilities and half the rights"?
So long as the work gets done, then all is right. I should not like to think of having to look for another job; I was really bad at that as a recent college grad.