What Do You Want To Be When You Grow Up?

This question has haunted me since childhood.  Truth be told, I still don’t know.  At this stage in the game I wonder if Filthy Rich Alcoholic is an option?  No?  Fine then.  There are days I consider dropping some of my morals and become a ruthless scam artist.  This sounds like an exciting career, however dangerous.  If I had my devious shit together years ago I could have become a very successful Cyber Scam Artist.  I break out in a sweat just thinking about what this would do to my conscious being.  I just cannot do it.  It is so seriously NOT like I got some kind of moral compass from my parental upbringing.  Honestly,  if I learned anything from my Frank Gallagher of a father it was “don’t get caught”.   One of his favourite sayings was “Do everything once and what you like go back to”.  Well if that isn’t the worst freaking advice for a kid.  Gee Dad, tried crack this weekend.  I think I like it!   It was straight common sense for my eight year old self to see that this was not the best parenting advice.  There are a million things a kid should never just “try” to see if they like it.  Steal a car, have unprotected ‘special time’, rob a bank….. I could go on forever. 

There have been times in my life where the question “What do you do?” really pisses me off.  It’s like your entire self-worth is completely wrapped up in what you do as a job, not who you are as a person.  There are people out in the world who judge others based solely on the job/career they have and not on if they are a decent human being.  It makes me crazy.  Whether you are a successful doctor or a janitor at a high school, does this mean you are any more or less worthy?  What about those who volunteer their time to help others?  Are they a more successful human than the mom who works making minimum wage at a grocery store, just making ends meet?  Who is the judge and jury?  Ourselves or others?   

This leads me back to the original question and the fact that I still have not figured this out.  I have had a few jobs over the years but none of the jobs are who I want to be.  I think I have narrowed it down to Filthy Rich, Slightly Dependent on Craft Beer/Cheese Author (or something to do with cellular biological research – yes, this is odd). I can see it now…. I would own a craft brewery that serves nachos and write about it.  Oh the bliss….   In all honesty I would be quite happy with Thoughtful, Caring Human.  What do you want to be? 

Gym Update

If you read the post with my heartfelt feelings about the gym at work (August 3, 2016), you will remember that I hate the gym and had really high hopes of the gym at work being a place where my fellow co-workers were one with exercise and maybe a tiny bit friendly  I was so, so wrong.  (Please keep in mind that I am not a “people” person so that I even give a shit that people are grumpy and rude is odd in itself.  I just think being a gym turd is so not necessary at work.)  Alas, that lasted a few months and I flipped the preverbal bird to the gym.  The people at the gym at lunch never became even remotely friendly and, in some cases, down right bitchy.

A few months ago now, a friend/co-worker suggested that we hit the gym after work (therefore extending my extra-long, painful work day).  I was not enthused at first however after a couple of weeks I realized that the lunch time bitches were not there, it was nice to go to the gym with someone who makes sure you don’t have a heart attack on the treadmill and it helps with the fatigue I experience after work (and stops me from falling asleep when I am driving home!).  The downside?  Apparently the “after work crowd” are super, bloody fit and I am, by far, the fattest hamster on the wheel.  No, it does not inspire me to work harder so please do not suggest that crap.  Even though I shed a fat, little tear every time I am there, I will continue on (mostly so I can get back to running on the road when winter finally passes) and so I can continue to think I can drink beer and the calories are negative because I worked out.