And if I haver, well you know I'm gonna be, I'm gonna be the man who's haverin' to you
Spent the morning working, then went to a surprise birthday party for a friend and played surprise bagpipes. It was good to get them out and play again; haven't played them regularly enough since before the end of last year. Little things like that make me a little sad—knowing that even if I didn't procrastinate like I do, I still wouldn't have time like I need to focus anymore. I'm not complaining about my work; sure, there's very little fun in it, but at least it's work (actually I don't mean that; what I mean is, at least it pays)—and beyond that, it's where I am in life, so I've got to be satisfied with it. Still, there's a large part of me wouldn't mind going back to the days of late high school, when I worked twice a week, did some schoolwork, but focussed more on writing and bagpipe and things that are useful and profitable and fun...instead of spending all my time working or sleeping or doing nothing, just to earn money for university. It's an odd world. If I wasn't working and earning money, I would be in college right now. I wouldn't have taken a year off last year, I would have jumped right into it. I wouldn't have liked that either. I don't know if I was more content previously or not. And it's not even so much that I'm not generally content now; but I miss having the time to devote to my interests.
Working this job is not an interest. It's necessary. I travel too much not to have to work to earn money in between. I spend a couple thousand dollars in Great Britain in 2008; then a few hundred more in 2009; I go to Québec; I fly to Maine; I drive to Pennsylvania. Travelling is wonderful. I can't sit in one place for very long anymore. I just can't. But have you ever noticed that in this world, the only way you can facilitate doing the things you really enjoy is by hard, annoying, or downright bad things? To be what I want to be—which I'm not entirely sure anymore what that is...but be that as it may—I'm going to have to have some sort of job, and at least at first, it won't be what I'm most interested in, I'm sure of it. Save for a miracle, I'll be working a lot of jobs that aren't in my line of interests. If I want to travel, I have to work when I'm home; if I want to write, I have to earn the time to do it. If I want to be happy, I have to work at it. I'm not trying to paint a picture that life is all about me. But even when helping others, even despite the fact that it is ever so much more fulfilling and enjoyable—it still requires effort, and work.
No, no, this isn't anything new to any of you. I'm just casually observing a few things and lamenting the fact that I don't have the ideal job, the ideal life, and the ideal this that or the other—all on a lazy Saturday afternoon. See, the afternoon may be lazy...but I don't have the chance. ;)
-J. William English