A Dream to Share...

My dream was to get out from under the heel of the oppressor and be my own boss. Unfortunately, I've found that to reach this level of civilized existence takes an amazing amount of dedication, perseverance, and a titanium work ethic, not to mention a bit of a bankroll for the dry days to come. I have none of these. I changed my dream a few months back and decided that entering a brand new class of pseudo-entrepreneurs was more up my alley. Technically, I'm still working for the capitalist machine, i.e., The Man. But, in my new assignment, I am now away from his ever-watchful eye. That is the draw, the reason for being, as it were.

And because of this new freedom my usual manners of wasting time, lollygagging, and procrastinating have reached new levels. Now every floor has a pantry. The coffee machine has been respectfully superseded by waking up whenever I feel like.

The days when I feel like getting some work done I might rise to the occasion a bit earlier. I grab some coffee and go online. That's where I do my work. And that's where I don't do my work. I get too distracted. The diversions multiply when you're at work. I check my bank account, check the cricket score and read up on the latest news and information.

"So what's the problem?" you might ask. Over the past few weeks I've begun to develop what seems like a guilty conscience. I'm not getting my work done, and it's starting to bother me. I don't have to turn in any progress reports. No one is calling me every other hour to make sure I'm not "Doing research" at the neighborhood bar. So I spend most of my time thinking about doing work and doing everything else. I got my desk cleaned the other day coz it was in a mess. Last week I set up an online banking account and spent most of the day logging in transactions and transfers. A couple of weeks ago I was on a shopping spree. You get the picture. In a normal situation, if I were able to get away with the types of procrastination and digression I deal with at my office, I would be ecstatic.

So, the latest development in this saga, is that I've decided to return to the world where i started getting up at 7:00 in the morning to do some exercises. I'm returning to the proactive, FYI, 'can I get back to you on that', 'let's have a meeting', land of coffee that puts a film on your teeth and conversations coming from the cubicle across the way. I'm still not partially getting my work done, but at least I don't feel guilty about it when the day is done. When it comes to fulfilling dreams, you never know what you're going to get. In my case, I discovered the frightening remnants of a work ethic, left over from some twisted past life. Until I can completely beat the beast down into submission, I will continue to do my part in working for the man...

"It's not that I don't like the idea of working, it's that I really don't like pouring my effort and mental energy into trivial, uninteresting, self serving projects that trade my time and my spirit for money which is the only meager measure of respect and support I'll receive.

It's not that I don't like money, it's just that it's our society's poor substitute for thought and feeds the consumerist urge to live a life in an amnesiastic distracted state, attempting to be a mythical non person ever consuming more media and entertainment while leaving a wake of first world social and environmental destruction, always just out of sight, and so pleasantly out of mind.

It's not like I don't like jobs and money and business, etc. It's just that most of the time they're completely worthless. Also I'm not partial to being professional. I'll do my best to be responsible, considerate, and competent. I'm nearly always creative and analytical, even when I don't want to be. I'll still write resumes, but only if I've got a good reason. Mostly if you would like me to do something for you, I'd like you to talk to me about it."