I’m thinking about my job. Gotta quit either one of them. OK, I quit thinking. Bad jokes apart, this is a serious issue. Nah! Don't worry. I'm not going to advocate nihilism-hedonism-combo-supershit philoSOURphy here though I'd love to do exactly so but I'll try not to. What I really want to do is convey the importance of getting a proper job which one LIKES. The type where you don't have to ask yourself, "Is my job worth the piss I'm holding back?" Nevertheless, the term 'workaholic' doesn't apply to you if you don't like your job. As streetforward as that.
I'm emphasizing on the likeability factor as I ain't particularly someone who is very much happy with his job profile like majority of my fellow-employees in this universe, aliens included. I'm not exactly excellent at what I'm doing but I'm not the worst case scenario so I can say that I know my job better than the back of my hand. But then, what the heck do i need to know the back of my hand for, eh?
Throughout my sorry life, I always wanted to be somebody. And I'm still not THAT somebody. It's like a fading reverie where I see opportunities being gutted right in front of me. In reality, I'm rather busy writing stupid pseudofunny lines and feel like a monk with a monkeyish grin. I may not be as hopeless as this piece is turning out to be but trust me, one must get a job one dearly loves. Although it's hard to believe I too used to love my job from the bottom of my fingers once. Today when I look back, I wonder if they drugged me or something. You see transcribing is not the world's best job and transcription is hardly known outside our small thriving circle. Honestly, my job and I are simply destroying each other but we both pretend as if we are unaware of the fact. Plus, the nocturnal nature of my work doesn't help much. There is hardly any social life left of whatever was left before I left diurnal existence. No, Social Media doesn't count! And the ugliest part of all: I'm getting screwed by my job while my cronies are getting laid.
Maybe it's time to quit. But what next? I don't need this stupid job as long as no one mentions money and I'm wearing a pocketless trouser. My parents won't allow a 24 year old crazy son to stay at home tied to his PC watching never-ending movies. That is just not happening. So I guess I'm at the crossroad of my life. Perhaps, I should go back to what my forefathers used to do – farming. Not a bad idea to be frank but I'm not harboring that Lucky Ali moment. At least, not yet. On a second thought, I must become a fisherman and go back to the sea. After all, according to Darwin, that's where we all come from. On a third thought, I guess I should escape into the deepest of jungle and fulfill the penultimate dream of emulating my childhood hero Mowgli's life. But again, I guess I'm too old for that kind of nonsense.
Enough of trivializing the "serious issue" I noted in the very first line. Maybe, I'm overreacting as usual. Maybe it's just a phase and like all other phases, this too will burn out. Some days it feels great to have a job. Apparently today is not such a day.
Whenever I'm in office I keep reminiscing about all the stupidities I committed and how little I learned. Anyway, it's never too late to improve, quit or die. Or write another futile piece and undo whatever you blabbered in the previous post.
P.S: Just thought of doing something more insignificant than my job. Hence this blog post. *cruel laughs*