Latest rant: On working

On a board I frequent, we often share annoying, amusing, idiotic, soul-crushing, and hopeful stories about our assorted work lives. In response to someone's post, one member asked the following:

Are we ever going to get over the need to enslave ourselves for an occasional periodic day of leisure?

And yes, we're doing it ourselves. Who else can we blame? Bush? Hitler?

And I'm sure I'll be sorry for wandering into the lion's den here...

I responded thusly:

I'll bite.

I, for one, would love to do something I enjoy all day long, but I can't seem to find someone willing to pay me to do anything I enjoy for long enough to maintain my lifestyle, to which I have become accustomed. I like being able to get out of bed and engage with life, which I find I am unable to do without medication. (Rail against insurance companies, the medical industry, and pharmaceutical solutions all you want; this is my reality.) Being employed provides me the means by which I can reliably obtain the means I need to reach the ends I desire.

You and I have it easy - we've chosen not to reproduce. People with kids don't have nearly the luxurious options we do. Sure, I could scrape by on some occasional temp work if I gave up my cable, cell phone, car, first-hand clothing and furniture, pet, home ownership, etc. I'd feel some responsibility to kids I'd chosen to raise, though, which would probably require me to find some reliable income so I could feed, clothe, and educate them.

There are experiences I'd like to have that money facilitates - seeing other cities and countries is possible without enslavement but again, I've grown fond of avoiding certain level of crime, filth, and discomfort. I like clean sheets, hotel roofs that don't leak, and not having to hide from assorted law enforcement organizations.

Here's the real deal: it may be a personal quirk of mine, but the idea of financial uncertainty makes me anxious. I'm willing to trade some bohemian ideals to enjoy a heart rate that doesn't spiral ever upwards and airways that don't constrict. Perhaps it is a deal with the devil, but the devil has a flattering hair style and throws great parties.

We've all made the deals that enable us to achieve what matters to us. I don't see why making those choices means we shouldn't share our frustrations with the results thereof.

And, for the record, I ask myself almost daily if my deal is worth it. I'm thinking about teaching and trying to decide if I could live on a teacher's salary. That's "if I could live" and I'm the only one who can answer that.