My parents are on the merry go round. I always thought I’d end up there too. My dad is a psychiatrist, currently one of three in the whole city who will take call. That means he is on call every three days and ever third weekend. Stress much? When I was a kid we would have to schedule fun around his call. No movie this weekend, Dad’s on call. My wedding is in two weeks, he had to schedule it off when I got engaged last July!
Mom is a speech pathologist. She used to work for a hospital—very long hours. The boy and I would literally be the last kids picked up from day care every night b/c she and Dad were at work late most nights. (That makes a kid feel good, “I know all the other mommies and daddies come to get their kids at 5:00, but your mommy and daddy have much more important work to do.” More important than being with your kids? Yeah.) One day she decided to get off the merry go round—I think I was in college. She quit the hospital and went free-lance to the old folks homes around the area. She was so happy, she worked part time for a while, took days off, visited me at college… Then she got back on. She’s back to full time, driving a couple hours a day (which is a lot in Iowa) to different places. She just can’t figure out that she doesn’t have to work that hard. Feels like she is being lazy or whatever.
I was well on my way to the merry go round. I was going to get a masters in accounting and sit for the CPA and whatnot. Then, my junior year, it hit me. I don’t have to do that. Just because my parents have advanced degrees and work like crazy and have no free time doesn’t mean I have to! I can have a life! That doesn’t make me lazy!! So I settled for two business majors and now have a very relaxed job in a small college. I don’t bring my work home with me (unlike mom and dad), I work 8-4:30, no weekends. Occasionally I need to stay late for some thing or another, but I have more than enough time to be in plays, sleep all weekend, take a week long honeymoon, etc. I wish my parents would realize that cutting back does not make you a bad lazy person. It just means that your job isn’t your life, it is a means to finance your real live.
It sounds like you’ve already come to a tenative conclusion, so it’s not as if the sage advice (ha!) that follows is going to manifestly affect your decision, but…well, I’m compelled to add my own musings, regardless of how germane or useful they shall be.
I’ve been thinking a lot about this lately, as I’ve been required, by reason of the necessity of completing a completely unnecessary project within an untirely unreasonable timeframe, to work a substantial number of hours. I was willing to do so, despite proclaiminations every time such an event arises that I will never do this again, on the basis that this would be over within the foreseeable future, with an added, if inadequate, fiscal incentive that gives me clearance to go ahead and purchase outright a piece of recreational equipment (Feathercraft sea kayak) that I’ve been desiring for a few years now. In addition, as others have described, there is a culture in my current job, as with previous ones, in which extoling the sacrifices made, the burdens borne, the health affected, et cetera is as bench presses are to a weightlifter or belt notches to a gunslinger. The latest vogue is to compare blood pressure, the higher numbers being, of course, most covetable. A silly measure of accomplishment, comperable only to how high a skyscraper one is willing to leap from in order demonstrate one’s bravery, but there it is; idiocy in the form of corporate servitude.
As much as the added cash is desirable, and as much as I do, if only fitfullly, enjoy taking the limelight as the point man who’ll get things done, this sort of lifestyle is not condusive to a life well and fully lived. I don’t necessarially subscribe to the common notion that all persons must be well-rounded, for without pedants and obsessives we’d likely still be squatting in caves, cold and hungry, lacking all of the modern amenities including indoor lighting, artificial turf, and reality television. Hmm…perhaps that does not make my case so well; regardless, having a passion and following through on it at the cost of indulging in the socially expected pasttimes and lifestyles is the hallmark of an iconoclast, not a loser.
Nonetheless, a passion pursued too precipitately is a candle alight at both ends; without diversion, we come to the terminous of our aptitude and energy, left, like an ant at the end of a twig, without further path on which to journey. In my professional career, I worked for a consulting start up, doing mechanical design and structural analysis work for the automotive, agricultural, and off-road industries; I found thatt 40 hours of billable work demanded 60, 70, or more hours of actual labor; a burden I was willing to undertake as long as the work was there. Alas, when the business collapsed, as did the other social networks I had failed to maintain in pursuit of being the go-to guy at work, I was left without toehold, dangling from a single crack in a shear cliff face of my existance.
I’ve been, I guess, on and off the marry-go-round since, though the “off” has usually been nominally involuntary, if welcome. I find that, when employed, it is easy to be suckered by the “but we need only the fruits that your tree of effort can grow” (albeit generally less eloquently stated) and am willing, although perpetually grumbling, to put in the time. When I’m divorced from the kind of environment that encourages and requires that effort, though, I see my work for being as pointless and ephermeral as can be; yet another dead-end project, or a still-born product, or just a nominal effort made monumental by the lack of planning and consideration by an inconsiderate and unthinking management culture.
In my incarnation prior to my white-collar career, I often worked in restaurants and frequently on the steamy side of the serving line, including a couple of multiple star places in which a twelve hour day is less than impressive. Despite the energy and camaraderie that flows in a well-run kitchen, the rate of burnout is almost as high as the rates of drug addiction, divorce, and grease burns. The people who hold these jobs are full of passion for what they do–no other explaination would fit for the dismal adjusted hourly rate and likelyhood of debilitating injury, not to mention verbal and sometimes physical abuse from coworkers and the strange hours and hectic schedule mandated–and yet, few last into years counted by double digits; those that do are generally more suited to an insane asylum or a battlefield than a happy marriage or a backyard barbeque. There’s nothing wrong with that, of course, but it is a definite and restrictive subset of personalities that makes a lifelong go of working in such an environment indefinitely.
My point, if it can be discerned through all of this rambling prose (which is far more flowery than I intended, but a split of good wine will do that to a lad), is that things that seem important or exciting “in the moment” are, on reflection, less worthy of the sacrifices one need make in order to achieve them on the unrealistic and often unnessarially attenuated schedules that are imposed by others, and that in the focus to succeed and excel (based, again, on the metrics of others who are imposing their own dysfunctional experience on others) one can lose track of the treasures and pleasures that will remain once the last paycheck is deposited and the lights are extinguished.
In my way of thinking, there must be a better way, a more functional approach to conducting business and measuring personal success than to sacrifice the companionship of ones friends and family, or foregoing other interests and passions completely. Being, as I am, somewhat berift of the former I am, perhaps, less than capable of speaking authoritatively on the topic than others might, but I personally long for more leisure and less bombast, and agree with Bertrand (in principle if not in sophomoric ideology) that there is as much, if not more, virtue in creative recreation than in industrious labor.
Consider me waiting in line to get on the merry-go-round. With any luck, I start grad school in the fall of 2006. In a sense, I’ve been on it – well ok, I’ve been on the kiddie merry-go-round – for 2 years already, with my undergrad education in full swing. I’ve had no problem maintaining a presence off the ride, in fact I’ve had more difficulties devoting enough time to my studies. Now that I’m headed in the right direction though, it looks like I’ll be following a parabolic/logarithmic course, with my level of involvement in my planned career increasing rapidly, peaking, and then falling off and leveling out (Can you tell I’m a physics major? ). All of this is consistent with my two main goals in life:
Understand the universe.
Be happy.
Hi, Opal!
For some, a job is just a job, a way to make money. For others, a career is a lifelong endeavour to create or maintain something, such as a business. I have the privelige of being among those for whom a career is a quest, a search to answer questions in the hope of gleaning understanding and enlightenment. I also recognize that such understanding will be created and comprehended based on criteria I have socially learned, and that social fulfillment is as necessary for my survival as eating.
I was afraid of getting off the merry-go-round because I thought we would be in financial ruin. But my depression affected all aspects of my life including concentration and agoraphobia. I had to quit teaching.
But everything began to fall into place. First I was given a sabbatical until I could straighten everything out. Then I was granted a disability pension by the state, Social Security disability, and, for one year, disability insurance paid off.
I retired completely and was able finally to nourish my own soul and to parent myself and teach myself. Although I continue to take the necessary medication and therapy, these fifteen years have become a period of enormous growth.
Campion, what do you really want from life? Really think about it. Is there something creative and absorbing that you do that makes the time drop away as if it were nothing? Maybe that is a clue about where to focus your attention.
Unless money can buy the things you want most, a well-paying job may not be the direction for you.
If you can live simply and savor you have found the secret! (At least, that’s the viewpoint of my early sixties! I’m all about savoring…)
I’ve been on the merry-go-round for 15 years. I’ve yet to work a standard monday through friday 9-5 schedule since I left high school. Public safety is like that. I’m in my early thirties now, and my burnout is showing. I’ve put my career first, and am realizing now how confoundingly stupid that was.
All throughout my twenties I worked like mad. The clock was no boundary. There were weeks that I would go from one job to another, and back again. My current marathon record for time spent on the clock at various places of employ is 96 hours, straight, with no real sleep to speak of.
Back then I wore those hours like a badge of honor. I liked working like a borrowed mule, it gave me a sense of purpose, direction, and it felt good to have a working bank account. Now though, I’m a little wiser. I’m about to jump off of my current merry-go-round, and on to a DIFFERENT one. One that has me home weekends, midnights and holidays. One that lets me spend time with the people and things I love. Granted, I’ll still be on call 7x24, but my approach to it will be different. My life and the things and people in it are too important to leave to the soul wood chipper that was my work life.
The point is, I think, to be as happy as you can be. Regret nothing. Spend YOUR time, the way YOU need to, in order to be happy. If you’re obviously not happy with your nose to the grindstone Campion then pick it up, and get out. (which it seems like you’re doing, and good for you).
And Stranger’s somewhat convoluted and wine-tempered point is VERY well taken, not to mention elloquently presented. And I agree with it as well.
I know it sounds trite, but this life is not a dress rehearsal.
In some ways I’m happy, but in other ways, I’d like more free time to develop relationships. Because, ultimately, that’s more important to me. So, while my job does make me happy, it takes too much time. I need to find a similar job that takes less time. That’s my conclusion.
See, the creative and absorbing thing I like to do (besides reading), that’s my job. Parts of my job can be tedious and boring. But in other aspects, it’s very creative and fulfilling. I do believe that what I’m doing is important and makes a difference, in good ways, for the world. (Although I can cite you to people who think I’m doing satan’s work, I send that love right back at 'em.) I really don’t want to give up the good aspects of it. What I’d like is to keep the good aspects in the same ratio they’re in now, but have more free time.
With us, it was lack of sleep, or how long we’d been up. Also, the strange pains that make you think vital organs are shutting down in protest. And how much you drank. Oh, and the weight gain! We used to argue over who had gained the most. (Winner: guy whose best day lunch was a double bacon cheesburger with an egg and a milkshake; dinner was a steak, fries and a banana split. I do think he had a sensible breakfast, though. )
I would love to get off this particular merry-go-round, and indeed, my new boss may be pushing me off, like the last scene from (ironically) Strangers on a Train. But I need the medical, dental and prescription benefits; and I also need to pay the rent, need the money to research and write my books (not that I have the time or energy), and I need train tickets (and cat-sitter money) to visit my ailing mother.
Also, I have friends my age (with better resumes than mine) who jumped or were thrown from the merry-go-round and who have been unable to find a new amusement-park ride for two or three years. I don’t want to wind up as a carny.
I came to the realization one day that I was not going to be defined by my choice of a profession. I’m good at what I do, I take pride in my work, and I contribute my abilities when I’m at work. For that, I’m compensated and I earn a sense of satisfaction in doing my job well. But that’s all I expect and all that I ask from my job. I am not my job. My job is a means to an end - it allows me to pay for my life.
If you died today, your co-workers would be sad and would mourn your passing. They’d also come to work the next morning, turn on their computers, arrange to have your office cleaned, place an ad for your replacement, and, after a brief bit of saying “Damn, he was such a great guy,” will get back to doing whatever it is they do to make the company run. Your family and friends will have a harder time when you’re gone. I always keep that in the back of my mind when it comes time to either go home, or stick around another hour or two and get that report done.
This is not just a woman thing, nor a family thing. I’ve struggled with the same feelings of being a loser, almost as much as a family man as before as a single man. It’s a human thing. But I think you know that…
I would do mad if I couldn’t get out of the house - too many demons and all that. I never got on the merry-go-round that my early accomplishments predicted for me, and I regret it when I feel a failure, but not when I feel a free spirit, recognised as I feel I ought to be. Of course, the former state is more common than the latter! But I value an incredibly boring job, which gives me time to do lots of other things, such as write books that no one will publish, and a thesis that someone just might.
You do sound a bit unusual for a lawyer. Competent, kick-ass AND reflective/self-critical. I can appreciate how that might make things more complicated for you than for a more average lawyer.
Are you in litigation? Please say no. I cherish my hatred of them (gained first hand, I might say) very dearly.
Working in the medical field gave me a good dose of perspective. At the office jobs I work at, nobody dies if the letter doesn’t get typed or documents don’t get filed. I go home at the end of my shift and (mostly) don’t think about it until I’m back there again tomorrow.
Everybody here who is participating in marathon jobs, I’m willing to bet that nobody dies if your work doesn’t get done on time, either. I can hear the protests, “But we have deadlines. There will be fines, etc.” Be that as it may, people still don’t die. Companies have unrealistic deadlines because they know their deluded workers will kill themselves trying to meet them. I think it’s time for a worker’s revolution. Who’s with me?
I’m making it my life’s goal not just to stay off the merry go round, but stay out of the park where it is and plot its eventual destruction from the other side of the highway.
Your life belongs to you. It doesn’t belong to bossmen. You are their servant and no matter how important you think your job is or how “nice” you think your boss is, ultimately s/he sees you as a replaceable cog. You are a brainless machine for them to exploit at will, and every day you continue doing this, living for bossmen and not yourself, your humanity will be stripped away. Work isn’t a part of life, it’s the enemy of life and I think we’d all be a lot healthier–mentally, physically, socially, and otherwise–if we all realized this and adjusted our schedules so we could all have the least pain for the minimum amount of gain needed to survive. The fact that some people think working only for the money you need and no more is “lazy” is a sign that the programming of the bossmen has seeped into the American psyche to such a degree that we are now happy to be their machines; we’ve lobotomized ourselves for the system and the system is laughing its ass off about it. It’s not even money that drives us–some people I’ve been acquainted with don’t even get paid for half the work they do, they do “projects” on a “consultancy basis” pro bono, which means they are basically slaves, happy slaves who are dancing for a bossman who will stroke their head with one hand and hand them a pink slip with the other. I guess what I’m saying is, bosses are evil, work is anti-human, and we should all try to get by with the minimum necessary requirement of both.
Okay, a lot of that last paragraph is hyperbole, but the intent is sincere. Like seriously, I do not get it when people say they live for their jobs. It is the most depressing thing EVER that some people do this, because to me that means that they don’t know what to fill up that big gaping hole in their life with. Some people fill up that hole with drugs or alcohol, which, while definitely dysfunctional, has at least a little more dignity than giving themselves a crammed schedule of machine work. And what’s worse, compulsive workers infect others with their addiction, making their “children” (who are really little carbon copies of themselves) “work” a full schedule of activity, never teaching them to handle free time or unorganized activity, which of course makes the bossmen VERY happy, since there’s a whole other generation of machines to program for profit. Sad, sad, sad, sad, sad.
Get off that merry go round and firebomb it to the ground! Or just get off. Even if you don’t, never forget what you look like through a bossman’s eyes: you are a mere statistic to him or her, either that or some sort of small rodent-like creature, running in circles while he bathes in champagne and laughs at you.
Indentured servitude is no way for a human being to live.
Speaking as someone who did get motion sickness when he learned to fly a plane - my flight instructor kept telling me it would go away, and after 10 or 15 flights or so, it did! So don’t go ruling out such a cool hobby because of a little thing like motion sickness! And no, I never actually puked…
So, continuity eror, I take it that I can sign you up for my worker’s revolution?
You’re absolutely right, though - working for a living does not have to be the way it is in North America. I’ve had my eyes opened with my seasonal job - my boss wins, I win, the customers win, everyone is happy and no one is suffering or sacrificing. It can be done. It just isn’t, mostly, and the reason for that is greed. My boss pays me very well because he has enough money; he could pay me half as much, and it would still be a good salary, but he doesn’t, because he isn’t greedy.
For a while CE I DID live for my job, because others lived BECAUSE i did my job. That was cool. Then I moved up the ladder a little. Now the politics get in the way, and there’s a knife for every back. It’s stressful as hell, and now i’m getting out. How? I’m becoming a boss. :eek: Pay is better, hours are better, plus, there’s the champagne hot tub :rolleyes:
I live for my job. I’m not going to apologize. I like to feel useful. I like to do something worth doing. I don’t think that it’s sad that I fill up “that big gaping hole in my life” with my work–mind you, I teach, so the end result is not to make money for the man, but to warp the minds of the young. But teaching is my job, my hobby, and the foundation for much of my social life, and I don’t think that’s pitiful. My kids learn from me, and push me to better myself just to keep up with them, and they give back to me tenfold in affection and admiration and amusement value. All the hobbies I used to spend more time on honestly seem boring compared to the one I’ve got now.
A valid alternative to jumping off the merry-go-round is finding a merry-go-round that’s really worth riding.
(Mind you, teaching does leave me the summer to do other things, like read trashy novels and play video games)
I never actually thought you were a bloke. I always had you down as a bird, but then realised that I was making an assumption (although the assumption was, I think, probably based on some evidentiary basis, for example, a snippet of information that you had revealed about yourself).
As for the other bombshell, perhaps God sent you to deal with my most deeply-held prejudices and antipathies. My views on homosexuality and evolution pale into insignificance compared with my views on LLs and ex-LLs, otherwise known as Judges. (smug bewigged smiley)
). All of this is consistent with my two main goals in life: