A journey of a thousand miles...

It must be hardwired into the men of my generation to start questioning your place in the universe at a certain age, because lately many of my friends (both online and in meatspace) seem to be doing just that. So, I thought I might as well post my thoughts on it.

Once upon a time, I graduated college and got a job. The job paid very little (like a couple bucks above minimum wage) but I liked it. I got to work with cool people doing cool stuff and got to play with lots of cool gear. Since the pay was lousy, a friend & I started doing web pages on the side (this was back in the days when knowing the *blink* tag was enough HTML experience for people to hire you on the spot). One particular business did so well with their web page that they offered me a whole lot of money to come aboard full time. At the new job, despite hearing "It must be AWESOME to work here!" about a hundred times a week, I was miserable. Management would ask me for solutions, and I would come up with them, along with elaborate research & detailed instructions on how to implement them. They would then proceed to do absolutely nothing, and blame me when the problems didn't magically disappear. I hated it and was giving myself an ulcer and hadn't slept for the better part of a year when some idiots decided to crash some planes into the World Trade Center, and I got laid off. Simple as that.

The loss of my job, along with some unexpected medical bills, pretty much served to decimate my finances and my credit rating. Know what? I wasn't any less happy. I sure wasn't thrilled about being broke, but I realized that I didn't need to make a ton of money to be happy. I re-enrolled in school and earned a masters' degree. Now, several years later, I have all these friends telling me "You have a masters' degree! You could easily get a better paying job, then you could get a bigger house, a new car, etc.". Then I could be as happy as they are - They, who have $220K houses and two new cars in the garage. They, who have mortgage payments bigger than my gross monthly income. They, who work on salary, go in at 6AM, and come home at 8PM too exhausted to play with their kids. They, who have 120-mile commutes every day. They, who work on commission alongside backstabbing assholes. No thanks.

I eventually did find another job that paid about the same as I was making before. I like it - I wouldn't say that I charge out of bed every day rarin' to get to work, but I genuinely don't mind going. I like what I do, and I like (most of) the people I work with. And the best part? - I leave work after 8 hours, I go home, and I don't think about it. I have enough time and money left over to work on my little projects. I might not be raking in the salary that some of my friends are, but life's too short to work a job you hate.

People always say "If you love what you do, you never work a day in your life". You have to be careful here - I've had friends who were fellow amateur photographers, and went out on their own to open their own studio. The result? Photography BECAME a job. One that they hated. I've known people who practiced music, mechanics, & art as a hobby, and when they turned it into a job, it got a whole lot less fun. Jobs, by nature, are always going to have co-workers and clients and deadlines and late nights and things that just make life a lot less fun in general.

I guess my point is, it's not where your money comes from, it's what you do. Do what makes you happy, even if you don't make any money at it. Even if it's at home, in your spare time. Even if nobody ever sees it (although the Internet now remedies that, to a degree). You might work at a pharmacy from 9 to 5, but maybe you're really a photographer. You might get paid to drive a forklift, but you're really a painter. I'm pretty sure the subcontractor who was pulling cable at work the other day was actually a gardener. Don't let your environment define you. And don't get too worked up over your job. I know the anxieties of "What if I lose my job? I have no savings - I won't be able to pay my bills! I'll be homeless! Living on the streets! I'll have to put on dark sunglasses and sell pencils from a cup!" Well, it happened to me, and I survived. Mom always said "Don't worry, things will work out alright" and I quietly rolled my eyes at her naivete. Turns out she's been around a lot longer than me, and she's a lot smarter too.