I am 31 years old and going on 90 – unless you factor in my sense of humor, in which case I am closer to 4. Of my 31 years I have spent more than half that time employed in some fashion. We will call it ~204 months. In all of those months I have only enjoyed 3, the 3 months I spent working as a Beta Tester on a computer game. It was a small company, loads of freedom, and I was a teenager getting paid to play games. To be generous we will say that I have had 4 good months, assuming I can scrape together a full month worth of happy work time memories from the remaining 201 months of employment. This all adds up to a big fat bummer.

I could always just say, “At least I have a job,” and I am often told I should say just that. I get it, really I do. The economy blows and I get to put food on the table, so it goes in the win column. Fair enough. I know, I’m whining about FWP’s again. I think this is just how people are wired. It’s hard to say enough is enough, we always just want more even if we have plenty. In my case the wanting more isn’t as much about wanting more money (though I would like a big screen LCD TV, just sayin’), rather I am wanting more satisfaction. I want to be able to be creative every day, and not just doodling while on a conference call or writing for a few minutes before bed. I want to not spend my day staring at Excel and fixing graphs full of stuff nobody actually cares about. I don’t want my frustration with action items, reply all’s, and ‘strategic realignments’ to ruin my time with my daughter.

I know that having a job and liking your job is too much to ask for. You can’t ask for it, because no one can give it to you. You have to make that happen on your own. As I write this, I am setting some realistic goals and some BHAG’s (Big Hairy Ass Goals), in the hope that I can accomplish some of them and start actually changing my life to better reflect the life I want.


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