I'm trying to get used to being a full time worker bee. Essentially, at its core, it f*cking sucks. Part of the problem is my workload lately - it's been a bit high, meaning I don't have time for the good parts of work - reading up on policy developments, thinking properly about how I'd like to do things, the ability to execute in a top class fashion that comes with the poise that comes with not being rushed off one's feet. It's true, and a relief, that I appear to be learning how to deal with some of these stresses. A marker perhaps, of my gradual transition to a competent worker. But does it change anything fundamental? These days I have less time and even less energy or ability to do the things I'd like to, or I used to, outside of work. I feel less like myself. A few opportunities have recently shown their face, and the prospect is there that I might be more satisfied. Having a more stimulating job - something that actually really truly grabs my attention - is one way I can see to improve my life, workwise. Another way might be to have a job that leaves me so much mental space and physical energy that I can achieve anything I want to outside work. I've been in this situation before with part time jobs, but I believe once embedded in a non-demanding but non-interesting full time job, that too would suck. So is that really all the hope there is of making something out of the majority of my waking life that work constitutes? Finding something a bit more intellectually and spiritually energising? It's a bloody good start but I put it to you, dear reader, that any human being that ends up pouring their heart and soul into a job for forty years or more does themselves, their souls and their society a disservice. (A fortunate few escape this because of a truly rare match between job, person and world. A great many more, I hazard to guess, tell themselves that it's not so bad, plus anyway this is as good as it gets. I disagree.) The reason is in order to be a proper human, a proper living thing, a proper member of society, you need to do much more than deposit yourself into a workbox from 9 to 5 for your adult life. I don't deny the many benefits us humans can gain during our working life. I only say that this is far, far below what could be and what should be, dammit! 'Course, I could be wrong. These could be the death leg wriggles of a cocky about to reincarnate into a fully fledged faithful worker bee. Well if they are, I might as well enjoy them.
F*ck work coz it's really, really f*cked.
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In a thought process semi-related to your own written mental antics I was able to read too deeply into some Beatles lyrics. The simple lyrics “Will you still need me, will you still feed me, when I’m sixty four” became complex.
If you’re doing a boring but well paying job all your life, will you still need it at 64 or can you skip out early? Alternatively, if you have pursued a more personal and less routine life and are ultimately satisfied by the time you reach 64 do you need yourself anymore or can you dispense with the pleasantries and put yourself through a blender of mental, physical and substance abuse?
For the time being I have resolved to travel and create a self sufficient semi-hermitage that insulates me from the economic ups and downs while providing a large dose of “that feels right”. Miami.
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