Depsite operating off only a few hours of sleep, coupled with the crunch of getting four kids ready this morning, the phlegm molasses germ has moved on and I’m a six pack of Leffe Blonde away from having a chipper day. There’s a sense of completion when draining a bottle of your favorite hops late at night after staying up to finish some work. Its work that may take a change in the future, but for now its something that makes the day job a little more fun to go to.
A sense of worth is tough to reach for as you file your TPS reports with the crispness of a Tiger Woods putt on the 72nd hole of a tourney with the trophy on the line (anyone who watched... was there any doubt he'd win while teeing off on the first hole?), but are left with a question of are those spreadsheets good for anything? Am I providing something to someone tangible? Being firmly entrenched in the corporate barracks its hard to feel a part of something so huge despite the occasional good worker award plaque that nets a pat-on-the-back and choice of a Sweet Martha’s Cookie.
When I snap up a write-up on the PokerStarsBlog, staying up past midnight knowing there's a shower at four a.m. with my name on it, I know there’s some online rounder out there checking out the action and wading thru my horrible puns to hear about someone’s streak of luck got turned into five figure or more score and suddenly that -98% ROI gets a boost. Content from never getting anything near that at the big box is fine with me, I am grunt worker, I enjoy someone handing me an assignment and getting the piece of paper weekly to pay the mortgage and my wife’s attempts on fitting into a two-piece again.
When told to lead, that can be done as well, but my life isn’t one to seek opportunities to lead the allies’ forces onto the Battle of Normandy, its get to that hand shake and go back to teaching the boy a proper batting stance. Titles and prestige are for someone who cares for such things, if that’s your bag baby; go for it because that’s what you believe in. Master Chief/Sergeant Major with 30 years worth of bars would sit on my sleeve if I wore a uniform versus a button down and tie.
It’s a good place to know you can feed those at home with a little left over for the occasional jaunt to see displaced friends across the country. And right now with the economy doing the bowel movement of some bad egg bake, it’s not a bad place to be.
Here’s to hoping my friends out there who are looking for work or even those mired in cubical hell that you find your place soon in whatever position you desire.