So, along with owning and operating a business, I am a working dog. I work for a big giant corporation whom I'm actually legally forbidden to mention by name in an publicly accessible blog
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Do nothing for now. You have far too much to lose. Quitting will be satisfying for maybe an hour. Not worth it.
Am I a sellout, a whore? I guess. But there are things I want: children, the house I bought, security for N. I can only have these by working for my own not-to-be-mentioned outfit. You might have long-term goals, things that would make you really happy, for which it would be great to have some capital stored up. Maybe you shouldn't blow the chance to sock away some money for those projects.
I was going to say to you about the job: WElcome to middle-class adulthood. The upside is not being poor. The downside is, till you're older and have played your office politics right and been promoted to power and privilege, you work on your days off sometimes, maybe often. You please your stupid boss -- or deal with the unfireable underling or whatever (they are the scourge of the working world, do-nothing idiots who somehow can't be fired) -- unless she demands something totally criminal or completely impossible. You learn how the place works. Become indispensible. Smile. Climb the ladder. Pay the dues. Privilege -- and the ability to make positive change -- will follow. And official channels often don't matter nearly as much as personal relationships on the job.
Actually, if an invasion of your own time-off Monday (and if any day is universally recognized as a working day, it's Monday) is the worst thing you put up with at the office -- you've got a good job. Believe me, you can work for or with someone a good deal more stupid and irritating.
Yeah, 'put up with it and bide my time' is pretty much the best bet, and obviously the one I went with, as I'm still working there. Managed two modays off in a row tho', so maybe it'll get better eventually.
And hey, compared to my last year of art college where I'd spend 8+ hours in the shop, and then another 4 or 5 everyday in the office/meeting/whatever, and a 'day off' was just an opportunity to spend a whole 15-16 hours in the shop, I guess I'm not doing too bad. 6 hours of sleep more nights than not ain't too bad, really. I'm, probably good for a few more years before I really burn out, eh? ;)
On the other hand, I love printmaking way more than I've ever loved anything but sex. Is that sad? Maybe... But it sure made the long days seem way more worth it, doing something I like that much, yanno?
But honestly, this job isn't bad, the people are great compared to every other job I've ever had, and the pay is definitely nothing to sneeze at for a guy with an art degree. Quite frankly, I'm lucky to have it, and enjoy it as much as I do, even if other folks likely wouldn't see the appeal. I just really needed to vent.
As for long term goals and things that money might make easier, well... I dunno.
I've been more or less without conscious direction since I was old enough to know that life was pretty much a bum deal for everyone except the chosen few (which for me was about age 12, I guess? My teenage angst was remarkably well-founded, alas, and thus hasn't ever really went away. Plus, I never rebelled much against my parents, just everything else that made both myself and my parents perpetual victims by my reckoning, but I digress...)
Even if I can buy everything I want to buy, what I really need is time, and last I checked that's not for sale. Not even on Ebay. The things I've needed money for (and didn't have) won't do me any good unless I have the time to make use of them the way I wish, so the money will more or less just build up to no real point other than daily-living being a lot less worry free in the finance department. Which is great, I just wonder if it's worth it sometimes.
I've never quite bought-in to that pie-in-the-sky motivational myth that most people seem to take as gospel, so working my ass off, and spending all my time now, to assure myself (falsely) that it'll guarantee me a good future just doesn't work for me. This makes my paycheck very unsatisfying if I stop to think about it at all, and if I'm not doing it for the money, what am I doing it for?
I guess it all comes down to that essential, eternal, unanswered question for me: Why bother? Wheres the meaning, what's my purpose?
"Because I have to" only takes me so far, and that's about as far as the rest of the BS folks feed themselves to make it all seem to make sense... If only because at base, the existence of semi-affluent upper middle class is only superficially 'better' than folks who live paycheck-to-paycheck, and under the right circumstances I could live either way with the same level of discontent and angst.
Maybe I just need therapy. Or more drugs. *shrugs* I don't really know anymore, and don't really have any new lines of inquiry to pursue to attempt to find out.
I am basically a child of privilege, so I've got certain ethics drilled into me. (Though I came to it late. My mother married into the elite when I was 12. I remember a very different life, unlike my little brother.) Growing up in privilege comes with its own set of psychological problems, including the recognition that those problems look ridiculous from the perspective of the great mass of people who are not privileged.
Reading my last post, I sound like my parents. I believe what I said, at a certain level. But deeper down, I share your doubts. I'd like to see a very different world from this one. Many days I don't know why I get out of bed, except that I want to see N. and my future children (still trying!) have the best.
I too was a good kid... well, sort of. I rebelled passively. I did all the right things, and yet my teachers and parents loathed me. The difference between now and then is that I'm much better at hiding my attitude. (Or rather, I actually attempt to hide it now.)
Re: medieval books!wolfebyteMarch 18 2008, 04:53:08 UTC
I'm certainly not a child of privilege, and I'm not exactly sure what ethics and whatnot being perpetually poor was supposed to drill into me (being that a good deal of what I'm 'supposed' to believe/think/want I don't) but it did impart a certain thankfulness for money and what material possessions I was lucky enough to get.
On the other hand, the be-thankful-for-what-you're-lucky-enough-to-have has been tempered a good deal by the understanding that I don't really *need* what I have, and can still enjoy life - ie: I'm not very materialistic/ambitious in the 'owning stuff' and 'having money' aspects of life. (In hind sight, that's likely what made me make my unfortunate decision to go to art school rather than getting my education in something more practical to modern living, but I digress again.)
My family lived for years in a would-be-condemned cabin in Ontario that my grandparents had scavenged up for us. Most my spotty childhood memories come from that 'house'. Shortly after, we lived in a 1978 Chevy van for two years while my dad was away looking for work/working to get us enough money to *not* live in a van anymore. Then there was a series of shitty apartments and subsidized-living type places (A 'Canadian ghetto' as featured by Micheal Moore, haha!).
For most of my life 'making-do' and 'getting-by' involved a lot of doing-without and making last-minute late payments to keep the system from taking back what we were lucky to have. Even in college I bailed my parents out of a financial fiasco so we could prevent foreclosure on our house. A few years later, friends of the family had to do it again, for the same reason.
Yet, I was never unhappy because of being poor. I *was* unhappy because I was (and still am, I guess, leopards and spots and whatnot) an angst-ridden idealist, prone to melancholy and far too much existential thinking, but not because I was poor. So being poor isn't that scary for me, because I've been-there-done-that and came through more-or-less fine.
(Which brings me back to the point about what I'm 'supposed' to be like, as both my mother and my brother reacted much the opposite to our life - Now both of them are of heavily consumerist bent, and deal with money issues very, very poorly, though in different, very typical, ways.)
So for me, having money and financial security is a good thing that I can certainly appreciate, but on the other hand, not having money is no-big-deal either, as the things I value can't really be bought. Which makes coping with shitty work situations very hard for me, as my inherent who-gives-a-fuck attitude about that aspect of life conflicts with my appreciation of what money can actually buy aside from the elusive happiness and contentment.
And no worries, I liked the non-sequitur aspect to the title. :)
(And for the record, my rebel-against-the-system never actually attracted any ill-will from most people. The vast majority of my teachers and assorted other people-in-power generally liked me, even when I was being disagreeable to extremes... Perhaps further evidence I missed my calling as a Charismatic Suicide Cult Leader... ;) )
Am I a sellout, a whore? I guess. But there are things I want: children, the house I bought, security for N. I can only have these by working for my own not-to-be-mentioned outfit. You might have long-term goals, things that would make you really happy, for which it would be great to have some capital stored up. Maybe you shouldn't blow the chance to sock away some money for those projects.
I was going to say to you about the job: WElcome to middle-class adulthood. The upside is not being poor. The downside is, till you're older and have played your office politics right and been promoted to power and privilege, you work on your days off sometimes, maybe often. You please your stupid boss -- or deal with the unfireable underling or whatever (they are the scourge of the working world, do-nothing idiots who somehow can't be fired) -- unless she demands something totally criminal or completely impossible. You learn how the place works. Become indispensible. Smile. Climb the ladder. Pay the dues. Privilege -- and the ability to make positive change -- will follow. And official channels often don't matter nearly as much as personal relationships on the job.
Actually, if an invasion of your own time-off Monday (and if any day is universally recognized as a working day, it's Monday) is the worst thing you put up with at the office -- you've got a good job. Believe me, you can work for or with someone a good deal more stupid and irritating.
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And hey, compared to my last year of art college where I'd spend 8+ hours in the shop, and then another 4 or 5 everyday in the office/meeting/whatever, and a 'day off' was just an opportunity to spend a whole 15-16 hours in the shop, I guess I'm not doing too bad. 6 hours of sleep more nights than not ain't too bad, really. I'm, probably good for a few more years before I really burn out, eh? ;)
On the other hand, I love printmaking way more than I've ever loved anything but sex. Is that sad? Maybe... But it sure made the long days seem way more worth it, doing something I like that much, yanno?
But honestly, this job isn't bad, the people are great compared to every other job I've ever had, and the pay is definitely nothing to sneeze at for a guy with an art degree. Quite frankly, I'm lucky to have it, and enjoy it as much as I do, even if other folks likely wouldn't see the appeal. I just really needed to vent.
As for long term goals and things that money might make easier, well... I dunno.
I've been more or less without conscious direction since I was old enough to know that life was pretty much a bum deal for everyone except the chosen few (which for me was about age 12, I guess? My teenage angst was remarkably well-founded, alas, and thus hasn't ever really went away. Plus, I never rebelled much against my parents, just everything else that made both myself and my parents perpetual victims by my reckoning, but I digress...)
Even if I can buy everything I want to buy, what I really need is time, and last I checked that's not for sale. Not even on Ebay. The things I've needed money for (and didn't have) won't do me any good unless I have the time to make use of them the way I wish, so the money will more or less just build up to no real point other than daily-living being a lot less worry free in the finance department. Which is great, I just wonder if it's worth it sometimes.
I've never quite bought-in to that pie-in-the-sky motivational myth that most people seem to take as gospel, so working my ass off, and spending all my time now, to assure myself (falsely) that it'll guarantee me a good future just doesn't work for me. This makes my paycheck very unsatisfying if I stop to think about it at all, and if I'm not doing it for the money, what am I doing it for?
I guess it all comes down to that essential, eternal, unanswered question for me: Why bother? Wheres the meaning, what's my purpose?
"Because I have to" only takes me so far, and that's about as far as the rest of the BS folks feed themselves to make it all seem to make sense... If only because at base, the existence of semi-affluent upper middle class is only superficially 'better' than folks who live paycheck-to-paycheck, and under the right circumstances I could live either way with the same level of discontent and angst.
Maybe I just need therapy. Or more drugs. *shrugs* I don't really know anymore, and don't really have any new lines of inquiry to pursue to attempt to find out.
Reply
Reading my last post, I sound like my parents. I believe what I said, at a certain level. But deeper down, I share your doubts. I'd like to see a very different world from this one. Many days I don't know why I get out of bed, except that I want to see N. and my future children (still trying!) have the best.
I too was a good kid... well, sort of. I rebelled passively. I did all the right things, and yet my teachers and parents loathed me. The difference between now and then is that I'm much better at hiding my attitude. (Or rather, I actually attempt to hide it now.)
Reply
KMB
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On the other hand, the be-thankful-for-what-you're-lucky-enough-to-have has been tempered a good deal by the understanding that I don't really *need* what I have, and can still enjoy life - ie: I'm not very materialistic/ambitious in the 'owning stuff' and 'having money' aspects of life. (In hind sight, that's likely what made me make my unfortunate decision to go to art school rather than getting my education in something more practical to modern living, but I digress again.)
My family lived for years in a would-be-condemned cabin in Ontario that my grandparents had scavenged up for us. Most my spotty childhood memories come from that 'house'. Shortly after, we lived in a 1978 Chevy van for two years while my dad was away looking for work/working to get us enough money to *not* live in a van anymore. Then there was a series of shitty apartments and subsidized-living type places (A 'Canadian ghetto' as featured by Micheal Moore, haha!).
For most of my life 'making-do' and 'getting-by' involved a lot of doing-without and making last-minute late payments to keep the system from taking back what we were lucky to have. Even in college I bailed my parents out of a financial fiasco so we could prevent foreclosure on our house. A few years later, friends of the family had to do it again, for the same reason.
Yet, I was never unhappy because of being poor. I *was* unhappy because I was (and still am, I guess, leopards and spots and whatnot) an angst-ridden idealist, prone to melancholy and far too much existential thinking, but not because I was poor. So being poor isn't that scary for me, because I've been-there-done-that and came through more-or-less fine.
(Which brings me back to the point about what I'm 'supposed' to be like, as both my mother and my brother reacted much the opposite to our life - Now both of them are of heavily consumerist bent, and deal with money issues very, very poorly, though in different, very typical, ways.)
So for me, having money and financial security is a good thing that I can certainly appreciate, but on the other hand, not having money is no-big-deal either, as the things I value can't really be bought. Which makes coping with shitty work situations very hard for me, as my inherent who-gives-a-fuck attitude about that aspect of life conflicts with my appreciation of what money can actually buy aside from the elusive happiness and contentment.
And no worries, I liked the non-sequitur aspect to the title. :)
(And for the record, my rebel-against-the-system never actually attracted any ill-will from most people. The vast majority of my teachers and assorted other people-in-power generally liked me, even when I was being disagreeable to extremes... Perhaps further evidence I missed my calling as a Charismatic Suicide Cult Leader... ;) )
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