“What do you do?”
“Excuse me?” I ask.
“What do you do? You know, for a living?” and she looks at me like I should know that
what I do for a living is the only thing she could have possibly meant by that question.
Not what I did for a hobby, or for humanity, or for relaxation, but what do I do for a
living. And the question doesn’t annoy me so much because I don’t have an
impressive answer for her, because even an impressive sounding answer wouldn’t
sound so impressive after the next cluster of questions.
“A writer, wow! What books have you written? You must make a lot of money, right?
And do you know Terri McMillan? She’s my favorite!”
Sigh. I would have to say next that I have no books written, that in fact, I have not
made any taxable money off of writing as of yet, and, I have met Terri McMillan, at a
book signing, and her personal message to me was, “ All the best, Terri”.
Then what? What I imagine would be next is the look, a smirk that seems to say, “No
stability, no 401(K), no consistent automatically deposited biweekly paycheck. Loser.
Bet she’s a waitress at IHOP, at her age”.
Actually, I don’t work at IHOP. I prefer respectable catering companies where I get to
serve society’s most wanna-be elite, thanks for asking.
It does appear that our society is hooked on “what we do” for a living. Sure, it can be
interesting when meeting someone who’s a museum curator, or impressive when you
meet the first black CEO of some company or another. But surely that’s not all we
are. Is it? So what we went to school and got a couple of degrees in this or that and
then went to work at this place or that one. Who are we though? What do we love?
What are we an amateur expert in that doesn’t have to do with our job?
I recently I asked this question of someone and she said that she was an amateur
expert in plumbing. Such a pretty, well-kept, young, dainty little lady loved to work on
plumbing. How exciting is that? There’s a man I know whose hobby is model trains.
He even goes to seminars and the such to be around other,,,traineys? He also loves
to capture life on film. His photography is tremendously moving. That’s the core of
who he is. Not his very well paying job, but what moves him. And there are people
who spend as much of their time as possible just helping the world. Volunteering for
causes that are important to them. Helping humanity one person, one issue at a
time. That says more about who a person is than their occupation does, if one were
to ask me.
Surely there are people who are moved by their occupations. And no matter what the
pay is, that right there is a level of success. Getting up ready to get to the workplace
to work their magic. Wow. I don’t know anything about that, but I’ve heard of it
before. But let’s be honest. What’s the percentage of the population in which this
applies? In my little world I hardly hear of these people. Mostly I hear about how
awful it is to be there, how hateful coworkers and managers can be, how Friday
cannot come soon enough.
Thank God it’s Friday huh? Well, I think its plain sad that we live for Friday. Here’s
the breakdown about good ol Friday. Friday. It comes. You’re delighted. You’re
dancing all the way home thinking about all the fun to be had since you got two days
to play, play, play. Saturday comes and you fill it with as much fun and relaxation as
you possibly can. Sometimes it even seems frantic, all the fun you gotta have, all the
clothes you gotta wash, all the brunch dates and the Lifetime movie marathons. You
got me? Then there’s Sunday. Negative feelings start to appear about what
tomorrow brings. Tomorrow is Monday. Beginning of the workweek. Ugh! Monday
comes, five whole days till the weekend. Tuesday’s not all that promising.
Wednesday, well what’s humpday got to do with anything? It’s not Friday! Thursday,
one more day to go, just let this day hurry up and be over. Friday. Again. Let’s do it
all over again, shall we?
Is that a way to live? I mean, we’ve only got less than a hundred years to live, and
every day you rush through to get to Friday, is a day less of your life. Is it fair? Five
days to work, two days to play a little and get some rest just to show up at the
plantation again?
There are 24 hours in a day, right? Take one hour to get your coffee and get to
work. Approximately 8 hours of work. Okay, okay, go ahead, take a lunch, but only
an hour, so don’t have too much fun. Take another hour to get home. Got kids, a
mate? They need you too. How much sleep do you need? How about 8 hours? You
only need 6? Okay. So, how much time does that leave you for yourself? 8
hours?!?!?!? Well, not really, cause you gotta get dressed for work. How long does
that take? Another hour maybe? So, 7 hours!!!!! Is that fair? Is that how humans
should be living? No!!! NO!!!! And I object!!! I don’t wanna be a little robot. I don’t. I
don’t, I don’t!!!!!
So, what do I do? I am a writer. I love to write. I love to create all sorts of things
actually. That’s who I am. I make money now a couple of ways, none of which include
the plantation. But I am not living a life that sucks that only gets better on the
weekends. Not anymore. No way. What about you?