One moment I was happily banging away at spreadsheets and pleasing customers with timely returns on their emails. The next, while walking to grab some documents from another department while weaving through the cube jungle everything turned into an 8-bit first person shooter game for a moment. The sort of mind screw that comes with being completely spent as it’s not sleep deprivation (still going to bed at 8:30pm-9pm ROCK STAR!) but rather listening to my brain cells popping from over simulation to textbooks versus the usual acidic death from rum.
Here I am chronicling the boring daily life of a married accountant where most who would read here see me in a different light. And should the time come that a novel burst out of my handle of Captain, the more exciting stories would hit the pages. But, this is ordinary time. People call it the grind, and if one were to look through the archives here the word grind shows up more in describing lifestyle versus the poker reference from which it spawned.
If Hemmingway were able to hop on Blogger daily, would his life seem more exciting than reading his classic novels? Likely, no but any fan of his work would probably enjoy his drunken musings born from a laptop sitting at Sloppy Joe’s. But, the world needs those creative types like Dr. Pauly to live for life versus worrying about future health and 401(k) plans. Personally it goes in spurts as my choice to be a father and husband come with a responsibility which I give my life to. But, there’s a side, a fun side which wants nothing more to hop a plane to rage alone in Vegas or join a traveling troupe of poker writers to live out a hedonic weekend free of all societal barriers and bust out of daddy mode for a few hours so that responsible person feels good about what he does.
An inter-conflict that I welcome because it means my body has not given up and will continue to push limits and wants to experience the new. Whether its achieving a CPA certification, blowing quarters at the Gold Coast Pai Gow dealer after a fourth straight tilt-inducing lose-lose while hooker row besides the sportsbook sizes up the wad of cash in my pocket, or coming home to a big hug from my son and daughter after work, all things made possible because I haven’t given up on wanting more.
And won’t. Even if it means feeling unconsciously alive in the short term due to overwork, the long term benefits are there. And much like the good doctor’s recent post about not being sure about hitting 30, or 40 years old and making it there with no desire of sitting in a diaper pool of fermented creamed corn and chipped beef at the age of 80, I can relate. Why not build memories instead of a double wide in Scottsdale that you may never see. My 401(k) is not for that double-wide but rather to bankroll whatever time on this earth I may have when people say my earning days are over from writing and pushing ledger entries.
That’s what your retirement should be for.