Sometimes I feel like all I am is my job. I breathe, sweat, eat, and personify my job. Is this the American Dream coming to furition?
It is my worship of the Almighty Dollar, that keeps me cooped up in a building for hours on end only seeing precious hours of sun.
Perhaps the most difficult reality is that this is all my own doing, and choice. I CHOOSE to work. I know there are many that are facing this economic climate without income and they would do anything to have a precious few hours of monetary gain. This is where I become frustrated.
To be, we must earn.
To be, I must earn. And I hate that.
...but I am more then my job, right?
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I feel the same, and I hate it, too.
ReplyDeleteHow about we join forces, and begin a commune?
ReplyDeleteI know some pretty smelly people who would join, but they have GREAT ideas. :)