CJ with cropping tool

Image by carljohnson via Flickr

I started working odd jobs when I was about 13, had my first real job at 17, worked all the way through college (which, by the way, was a stupid idea), and, other than one summer after graduate school when I only had temp work, never had a moment’s break between jobs since 1977. I always said I needed a break, I just didn’t know the economy would deliver me such a resounding break. After a startup I joined lost its financing, and with employment opportunities in my area extraordinarily slim, I got my break. There’s been consulting work, but there’s also been a lot of free time, time to do things I wouldn’t have otherwise gotten to do. Now, after a break of a few years, I’m going back to regular fulltime work, and glad to be doing it, but I’ve definitely learned some things about myself.

One is that I really don’t need to work. The son of a truck driver, from a working class family, I had the work ethic drilled into me. But you know what? Going to a job every day is not necessarily rewarding in and of itself, and there is plenty to do when you’re not going to an office or jobsite. I got to write, to do some research projects, to improve some skills. I got to spend serious time with my daughters every day when they got home from school. I was god’s gift to the high school bake sale. And I got to do a lot of driving to appointments and helping with a family move.

Another thing I learned is that I’m going to be about the athlete that I am. (Though I think I knew that anyway). I’m not going to get out every day, and I’m not going to get out in every kind of weather. Despite the fact that I could get out just about any time I wanted, and that I have never regretted a bike ride, I still only got out when things lined up, when the weather felt right (which doesn’t always mean sunny and warm), when my body felt right, and when I didn’t feel pressure to get back by a certain time. I learned that sometimes spokes break and leave you stranded. I learned that sometimes tires explode; that can be exciting.

I finally learned to cook decently. My knives are very, very sharp. A fair amount of vinyl was digitized, but I also figured out I’m not getting rid of the vinyl. I learned that there is no end to the amount of little projects around that house that I always wanted to get to that I still never quite finished — no end of pictures to scan, tools to repair, spaces to organize. It turns out they’re really not a priority.

I already knew that I had some amazing friends, and I’ll never be able to thank them enough for their support through these past few years.

And now, back to work.

Enhanced by Zemanta

One Comment

  1. You re a lucky man. Actually luck probably has very little to do with it. I admire someone who creates and appreciates a deeply textured life. Dont let work interfere with this blog though!
    March on!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *