Atlanta tri-weekly journal. [volume] (Atlanta, Ga.) 1920-19??, 1920-11-13
DOROTHYDIX TALKS
BY DOROTHY DIX
The Worlds Highest Paid Woman Writer.
For That Tired Feeling
Copyright 1920, by the Wheeler Sy dicate Inc)

A young woman wants to know what to
do when you've got that tired feeling, and
cannot stop and rest.
She says that she is weary unto death of
her job; that she has come to hate her type
writer as if it were some cruel god before
which she was offered up daily as living
sacrifice; that she could assassinate with JOY
her good, kind employer every time she
takes his dictatiOn and counts how many
chins he has, and that she has neither pride
nor interest in her work, and wonders that
she was ever keen and ambitious about it.
! She know well enough that she need rest
and change, and to get away from her desk
for while, but the remedy for her nerves is
as far beyond her reach as the port wine
| cure is beyond a pauper. She has a mother
and little sister dependent on her. Her lit
| tie white hands must fight the wolf away
| from the door, and so she asks what she can
do to get back her Zest in life, and her en-
thusiasm for her work.
Your case, little sister, is a hard one, but
| it may comfort you to know that your ex-
| perience is the common lot. 1t is only the
very few who are lucky enough to be able
to rest when they are tired, and to seek new
| and piquant favors when their lives become
dust and ashes in their mouths.
There is not a business man in the world
who does not have his moments when he is
so worn and weary with the strain of plan
ming new selling campaigns, and worrying
| iety of financing fresh enterprises that he is
| tempted to throw up the whole affair, and go
| into bankruptcy.
There is not a mother who has to- nurse
and care for her own children, who does not
get so sick and tired of walking the collie
and washing little faces and wiping little
noses, and listening to walls for mother, and
settling quarrels, and buttering bread, and
picking up scattered toys, that she does not
at times feel that she hates her own chill
dren, and that she would give anything on
earth to get beyond the hearing of her ba-
bies cries.
No matter what We do, we all have this re-
action against our occupation, and our hours
when the very thought of entering the tread
mill again, and going the same monotonous
round for the millionth time, fills us with a
physical as we'll as mental nausea.
Then comes the test of the stuff of which
we are made. The weaklings give up, and
sink into failure. The strong grid up their
loins a little tighter, and take a strange
hold on their courage, and go on to success
Because you are tired, little sister, don't
let yourself believe that you are at the end
of your resources. The runners in a race
will tell you that when they have gone a
certain distance they are almost overcome
with exhaustion. Theier feet drag, and
their breaths clog, but if they force them
selves on, they get what they call their Sec
ond wind, and make their best speed to their
goal.
That is true everywhere in life. If we re-
fuse to give up when we get weary, and dis
couraged, and lose heart, we get our second
wind, and find that we have dipped down into