Work, for the rest of my life
March 23, 2009 § Leave a comment
I had dinner yesterday, with my mom, my cousin and my cousins daughter (who is actually 14 now, which is slightly scary but really nice. I mean, if she is 14, then I’m OLD. But it’s nice t be able to sit down and talk properly:)). We talked a bit about jobs and all that, and I tried to explain why I don’t feel like working for 40 years.
I’m going to clarify:
I’d love to work for 80, 100 years, if I work with fine arts, writing and graphic design. That would be great. But I don’t really count that as “work”, that would be “getting paid for doing what I love”. If I’d have an ordinary job, getting up at six every morning, to do something that makes me feel slightly uncomfortable, for 40 years, I’d die.
I wouldn’t mind working in a store, or something like that, for a while. It’s probably fun and a good experience. Or working in an office. Or whatever. It’s probably great. And jobs are fun. But I don’t like the idea of forever giving up what I love, to work 9 to 5. (It’s really 8 – 5, isn’t it? And with travels and stuff counted for, it’s really 7 -6)
I might have to do it. I might have to give up all my dreams. It might happen. But I hope not. I want to write, and paint and push pixels around. There has to be a way. I don’t want to stand there when I’m fourty, saying that sure all my dreams died, but at least I have a nice house.
It’s just so depressing. Most people (proper grown ups, like over 40 yrs old) seem to think that my painting, photography and writing is some sort of hobby. That I don’t need it to survive. That I should give it up and be realistic about things.
So once and for all. It’s not a hobby. It’s my oxygen. I need it everyday, all the time. To work so much I wouldn’t have time for it, I’d loose myself. I would become something else. I don’t want that. I don’t want to turn bitter. Please?