What am I to do with my life?!
As I said before, I don't know.
As I am looking at my life I wonder what am I capable of, what can I continue to do that I will enjoy and be enriching. What? What!? Sigh, I don't know. Nothing, possibly. Maybe the only career I can have is a trophy wife.
But alas, I don't even have the marketable skills for that.
One of the major things that I learned in London was yes, of castles and an eternity of history. But also of how I want to live in the working world. I realized how short-sited the U.S. culture of working can be. I was enlightened to see how the UK and much of the world sees a job as part of one's life, not life entirely. We start off in the states with 2 weeks vacation time a year while that is just one vacation period someplace else. Taking a long vacation and having a balanced life was supported when I was in Europe. Yes, it is hard to cover someone for two weeks, but everyone is more than willing to pick up their calls and help out so that you can catch up on living. There was a mutual understanding that one can get the job done and get the job at home done too. That makes so much sense to me. It makes business sense; it makes Buddhist sense. People are most efficient and inspired that way.
Average Number of Vacation Days
Around the World Per Year
Around the World Per Year
| Italy | 42 days |
| France | 37 days |
| Germany | 35 days |
| Brazil | 34 days |
| United Kingdom | 28 days |
| Canada | 26 days |
| Korea | 25 days |
| Japan | 25 days |
| U.S. | 13 days |
Source: World Tourism Organization (WTO).
Pull yourself out of bed, get to work, work, get back home, breathe, sleep.
How would life be without that breathing part? Some people do not need that breathing period in their day. I am not one of those people. When I was in London, sometimes I sacrificed my breathing. I pulled myself out of bed, got to work, loved work, traveled to other work, loved work again, showered and thought about life to then climb into my crickety bunk bed. It was bed transport work transport work transport bed. The story of my life. I guess if you love work and transport, you'd love your life. But even if I adored every aspect of work, this life would not be sustainable. It would not be a life. If you only had time to breathe on your breaks or on weekends, how horrible would it be to dread holding your breath yet again on Mondays? But that's what it is like now. As it is 3:05am on a Monday morning, I'm thinking, fuck. How can I not breathe again for another week?
As I am looking at different jobs, it amazes me how much people sacrifice. Learning, love, sanity... Sacrificing is not bad. By definition, you get something else for what you give up, assumably something that is of more value to you. It's called opportunity costs. Sigh, I guess I have to really look at myself and what I value. I wouldn't really mind spending three quarters of my life in a cubicle if when I'm working I love what I'm accomplishing and love the people that surround me in it. And in reality maybe it wouldn't really matter if I came home late to do nothing other than brush my teeth and sleep. Because everyone will probably be gone doing their own thing, living in another part of the world and be caught up in their own working lives. People won't just be there for you. Life isn't Friends. They will just want to sleep. They will just want to go to work that next day.
If you couldn't tell...um, it's recruiting season.
And I say a cordial wagwan (hi in British) to all those recruiters who get onto my page, (though I don't know how or why you'd get this far since my friends avoid DJTHK like a plague). Do not fret, if I applied to your fine organization I will put in my life's valuable time and love. I will go grey for you. I will be that dependent, competent employee, the one who knows why she is sacrificing and what enrichment it gives to her. I only address my concerns because I weigh all decisions, unfortunately. Once I make up my mind, I put nothing less than my heart into it. To inquire about a resume, please give me a top-notch contact. I am too busy blogging. Only serious companies with a net worth exceeding $4 billion, with fringe benefits of premium health insurance, a violet Pinto, and over 13 vacation days please.
Marketable skills...marketable skills...
Where art thou?
_______________
On a side note, I think I've whittled down what has become my downers in this period of my life.
1. Lack of transportation. This seemingly insignificant logistic has been crutial in bashing any chance that I had on taking my explorative nature and passion to enrich myself when at home. It has whipped both the functional and passionate properties that independence has on a person. L.A., you are so behind in the times. Even China trumps you.
2. Different priorities. Everyone is busy with their own lives. This is as should be expected. ...But sad. Everyone, including myself is too busy...too busy for each other's grandeur.
3. I've been filling up my time with who knows what (ok I do know what), but this filling has taken away from my being. Sometimes I have to just sit and reflect. But it's sometimes too busy to even remember that I need to reflect...or eat. Sigh, you have to breathe and eat, Crystal. Goddamn it...it's imperative for living. Other things may be important, but you must remember to sleep, eat, and breathe. These are imperative actions to keep on living. Living, in the sense of having a beating heart, and living in the sense of having a beating heart.
I am lucky to have found the rose garden in South Central. I have been there a lot these past days. Though I always attempt to read cases and do homework there I unfortunately always spend too much time smelling various rose species' reproductive organs, weeping for the abroad times, and of course, narcolepsy-ing. Thus, if you see me please ask to see my distinct and unique tan lines which range from two-inch-thick backpack strap on arm to large oblique triangle on midriff.
I really should not be blogging right now. But sometimes you have to do things that you do not "have" to do. And those things that I do not "have" to do have kept me going. These have been my breaths. Talking to people just make my heart beat again. Smelling a rose, same same.
No comments:
Post a Comment