What's with work?

Trying to figure out the meaning of work has involved much of my life. I was that kid in first grade who remembers for me what was the dreaded question which went round the circle--what do you want to be when you grow up?

Why put little kids under such pressure? That sensible shrug, of I don't know, does not get a good reaction. The other kids seemed so sure! Doctor. Firefighter. Policeman. They'd reel off occupations with a joy that raised my suspicions. Ok, raises them now, were they coached? Back then I just felt inadequate. I sensed something was wrong! I had no clue what I wanted to be when I grew up.

But how did they think they knew? Of course who knows where they actually went, but it amazed me they had a ready answer. That bugged me for years but I've finally concluded that six year old's maybe just say what is expected unless, like me.

I was always looking for the angle. Was NOT ready to commit myself that soon.

Now some 40 years later I'm still working on the problem though often the answer is, I wanna be a writer when I grow up!

And to me writing is NOT labor, though one could call it laborious to get out good copy, as I try my hand at talking professional. You have to write something, then you have to edit. And edit. And edit some more. And then you need to really buckle down and really edit. Otherwise you're just throwing something up. And people can tell.

We're growing as a human civilization though. While a lot of people all over the globe do in fact labor, technology and especially machinery can mean that for many others, work could actually be a pleasure, if they're allowed to see it that way.

But who sees work as a pleasure? Maybe someone putting up working writing on Labor Day?

I think it makes a point.

And I think there is a traditional view that work is something horrible that is forced on you, where the dream is to escape it. Which is kind of the point of Labor Day. When you can get that giddy feeling of goofing off, like you escaped for a bit. And maybe even got away with something? But it's actually ok, because the Powers that Be gave you the day.

Doesn't that kind of ruin the point though?

If they gave you the day, then doesn't it just kind of reinforce this weird power some entities have over our lives? To demand we show up in a certain place at certain times, and DO whatever it is that thing we're supposed to do, for a paycheck?

Or you can roll out of bed and write something. Of course then that getting paid thing is where you can run into trouble.

But what if work excites you? Invigorates you? Has you looking forward to Monday with excitement at once again getting things done with renewed energy now that waste called the weekend is finally behind you?

Then what do you do on holidays? I'd kind of drift. With a sense there was something odd in my reality. There was a certain feel of the surreal, as I would get up roughly the same time anyway. And feel kind of this sense of awkward when I realized usually on this day I'd be rushing through the door to catch the bus to be to work on time.

But then again, maybe I'd go back to bed and giggle to myself.

Yeah I liked those holidays as much as anyone else. I think it's part of our programming.

So maybe I didn't quite get it with those weird interview questions as a 6 years old, but I wised up to going with the flow. Like if I could whisper back to my younger self would say, just say fireman! You got time to figure out the real answer kid.

Wait a minute, is my adult self thinking I should tell my younger self to lie? What happened to me? That kid was brave, honest, and just told it real.

But you know? Thinking back am certain while I did fumble the first time with that question have a suspicion that as it kept being asked, fumbled out something like the other kids. Social pressure, you know? And you do get that one question a LOT when you're a little kid.

Yeah right. My kid self hadn't yet learned bad more mature habits such as the above. I had no clue about going with the flow. So I'd always just squirm with that one.

Like your first awkward interview question, for me at least. I never quite understood how giddy those other kids were. They were so happy with a question that gave me fits.

Now it does occur to me, what kind of a kid was I?

Hey, am proud of that little guy! Though it does occur to me that my life might have been easier if the answers to such question flowed a bit more easily. I still wonder how people answer them.