Do You Want To Do This Forever?
The manifestation of vocation had taken many forms, but the question remained the same.
You wake up one day as a dishwasher, a movie usher, a teacher's aide, an administrator, a million different things, none of them are you. I am Technicolour Joseph, except in a prison of my own making, the butcher, baker, the candlestick maker have their own problems, deliverance like captivity will come down to personal choice. I choose life...
Loren sat hermetically sealed in a world of podcasts, staring blankly at his monitor and hopefully doing some work. His co-workers strolled by occasionally emitting signals which upon close examination could be construed as attempts at communication. When pressed he reciprocated. His demeanour was in no way a slight toward their amicable out reach, rather a by product of despondency caused by a lack of mental stimulation. In an attempt to off set the brain drain he had fostered an addiction to sound, mostly of the type that provided useful information.
"Huh? Somebody say something" He removed his earplugs.
"What does that sticky note mean?"
"Uh, oh DYW2DTF. It's my existential imperative, it stands for: Do You Want To Do This Forever?"
"Tell me about it, one day we gonna be out here. I almost won the power ball this week."
"Yep everyday I wake up and come here it reminds of my destiny and my destiny's somewhere else. Do I want to do this forever? Not remotely."
Disclaimer: Loren has no desire to be "dooced" and is grateful to all past, present and future employers. He gives them time, they gave him money, it's more than a fair trade. Work is a friendly reminder of the most important things in life and Loren harbours no resentment toward any party who engages in or facilitates any form of paid labour. One day Loren will join the ranks of the creative class and none of you will have to worry.
This post was inspired by a newsarama article and its associated comments (and maybe Trainspotting too), who's authors I can't remember, sorry.