Monday, March 8, 2010
It is Monday morning, which is insignificant to me because I have not had a regular job in over a year. In the beginning, days of the week still had meaning, now they don't. Mondays have been banished as a symbol of anxiety and trepidation. I do not wake up, rush the house in search of nylons, have a meltdown when my windshield is a frozen sea of snowflakes, drive like a manic an hour to work, spend eight hours drumming my fingernails and counting the minutes, only to end it all in another rush home to bed (more or less). Instead I wake (this morning at 5:48 AM), make tea (today it's green and black hibiscus), sit in the bathroom with my space heater (smallest room-easiest to heat), and work on whatever I want. Eventually I will eat (usually something that Will makes), workout or hike, and spend the rest of the day alternating between fiction writing, fiction reading, article writing, research, podcasts, drinking mass quantities of coffee, and querying. This, I believe, is how life is meant to be. So many of today's jobs are irrelevant. They are menial paper pushing positions that are super inflated by employers because no one really knows what the point of the company is. Like Insurance, for instance, which costs people a small fortune, wastes massive quantities of natural resources while powering buildings that pump out tons of useless paperwork daily, and creates no tangible product. Not only is it useless, it also sucks the lives from every employee who sacrifice their precious hours chasing a paycheck so meager that they dig a giant whole of debt to bury themselves in so that they don't have to face it head on. I have lived in that world, we all have I think, and it makes me extremely grateful for the world that I am in now.