Your Job Is Stupid

So I’m thinking today about how much everything I own makes my identity, and it’s true. It’s not necessarily a bad thing, things help people remember you (which, conversely, if you own nothing that’s a memorable trait as well), but when you’re known for having the most DVDs or games or books, then that’s not necessarily the best thing in the world. We’re all consumer whores, and that’s not going to change any time soon.

I’ve finally figured out that Fight Club was right all along: The crap you own ends up owning you. And even further: Your job is stupid. There are but few professions that are of intrinsic importance, so when I make blanket statements in this post you can exclude the likes of doctors or teachers or scientists that help mankind. But really, when it comes right down to it, most of our jobs are stupid and serves only to help us buy more junk. I’ve never really been incredibly job oriented, but now I’m starting to get pissed off that I feel bad for being so, because I shouldn’t be.

Let me explain a little more about this job situation and the way I think about it. For me, I’m kind of backwards in the way I look at it all. I really don’t think life should revolve around getting the best job or having the coolest crap. You can hug your TV all day, but it’s not going to hug back. What I really am looking forward to is building a strong and successful relationship with someone, and then worrying about some thankless job after that. I can’t sit here and honestly believe that going to work every day, coming home and being pissed because you were at work all day, and then going to bed – wash, rinse, repeat – is the way we’re supposed to live our lives.

“But you’re going to need moneys to keep up this fantasy world you’re creating!” you’re shouting. Yes, I understand this. We simply can’t survive with no money. I will be working all through my life; I know that this will happen. Unless I win the lottery, there’s about no way that this will not happen. These jobs, however, will not be what I wake up in the morning for. They will serve only to help keep me and my mate alive.

What makes me angry about thinking this way is that most people seem to prioritize differently, making me feel like I’m a dumbass. I have no problem with others wanting to do what they’ve dreamed of since they were little. I applaud that, actually. We go to college for years and years and spend so much money to specialize in little niches of society so that we can be the best whatever we can be. However, when I try to think this way – prioritizing jobs in front of happiness – I feel depressed. I understand that I’m overly simplifying everything, but I just want to be happy, and a job will not create that happiness in the stead of the love from another. The harsh, cruel reality is, though, that to attract another, simply saying all you want is love doesn’t really cut it in most cases. You have to have a good job to be marketable.

I’m going to bring this thinly veiled post about how I’m bored and lonely to a close, but I’m sitting here curious of how that fateful question your counselor in high school asked you will pan out: “Where will you be in ten years?” I can’t answer that question, honestly, because all of this that I’ve written here is bound to change; how we feel and how we think is all fleeting, and I can change this opinion totally by the morning. I will say this, though: right now I’d choose the love and caring of a significant other over any job that I can think of. We’ll see how that turns out when I’m 33.