Faster Goes the Clock

A recurring daydream I have involves not reporting daily to an office. Not being tethered to an 8-5, day in and out, for 35 more years. When I examine the dream in more detail however, it occurs to me that there's no clear picture of what I'd prefer to do instead. Like a child in the middle of a tantrum, I JUST DON'T WANNA, but I am clueless about alternate realistic realities.

When you get right down to it, work gives me a purpose. I know why I get up in the morning, I know why I do the laundry. It also gives me excuses for why I can't do other things. No, I don't have time to write a short story, I have to go to work. No, I can't sleep in late and go to the gym when I feel like it, I need health insurance and a steady paycheck.

Is that compromising? Or is that just life?

I've made my peace by squeezing the meat of what I want into my off hours. And I jealously guard those hours, from all distractions except the siren song of happy hour. But there's always more to do in less time to do it.

I'm convinced the older I get, the faster goes the clock.

Every moment is a choice. A fork. Not a spoon. And I keep revisiting this daydream and thinking: but what? What would you do instead? There's only so many hours you can sleep, so many episodes of the Golden Girls to watch. You'd get bored; you'd get lonely. You need the structure and purpose a day job provides.

This is to say, I don't have an answer. But maybe it's not about aspiring to leave the day job -- because I like what I do -- but to strike a balance between all the different pieces. And never use work as an excuse not to do what needs to be done.