It always seems as if I have lots of thoughts running around in my head until I stop to write them down. When I do that, they evaporate.
I buy lottery tickets because I don’t want to work any more. I’ve never been fond of doing what other people want me to do, paid or unpaid. I just want to do what I want to do, no more and no less.
I’m not afraid of physical labor. I enjoy exercise. I like reading. I like gardening.
So I resort to various forms of mental trickery to get trick myself into thinking I like work. It’s a fact that I have to do it, and will have to do it for several more years. It’s also a fact that I don’t want to be miserable. So I resort to trickery, pretending, acting as if.
I wonder if other people do that. I have no real idea. I think it’s likely that some do but most don’t. Most people just accept it and try not to think too much about it. Some people seem to genuinely like their jobs.
But that trickery, that self-deceit, is poisonous. It will first poison your soul, and then it will kill you.
Oh well, this is too depressing and I don’t feel like writing about it any more.
I want to do things I love, things I find joyful. I want to do them every day. I don’t want my days to be filled with unrelenting worry and toil. I want to do things I love. Mostly that means moving my body somehow. I know I have to work, because someone has to earn money to pay for everything the family wants and needs (although that’s another topic — all of us need to want less). But at 56, I’m locked into the job I have, no matter how I feel about it. I have to find my joy elsewhere. That sucks, considering how much of my time and energy I end up putting into work, but that’s the way it is.
And also, I don’t take advantage of aspects of my job I could be taking advantage of. Specifically, the almost total flexibility in my hours. I need to be more ready to change my work hours to accommodate the joyful things I need on a daily basis. I might as well use my vacation for my joy. Also, I don’t need to be that concerned about commuting with C every day — I’m perfectly capable of parking on Arbor Street and walking or jogging to and from Dayton Street. That isn’t that big a deal, and it’s very much fitting with a Paleo lifestyle. I don’t need to be concerned with exercising too much until I’m falling down.
My new standing workstation is very much in accordance with that also. It’s much easier to stay awake and active when standing than it is when sitting. I have to admit that I do get tired of standing all the time, but that’s kind of the point, isn’t it? Gentle energy expenditure is good. Paleolithic man didn’t sit on his butt all day.
Ending and Beginning 