When I think about the amount of writing I’ve done for the past few months it brings a smile to my face because writing is the thing that has always given me the most peace.
Conversely when I’m at work I always give my all because I like knowing that I’m damn good at my job. I like knowing that my work ethic is tight and my commitment to fulfilling all of the aspects of my job are taken care of because it brings me great pride to be respected an acknowledged for my work.
You see what I did right there?
I have discussed the joy I have in performing my job to the best of my ability because I like being respected and acknowledged for my work.
In this moment, I’m finding fault with that outlook and I will explain why.
I can tell you right now that my 9-5 job is Ok. It’s good money, nobody really bothers me and there’s room for advancement.
Yet when I think of my career as a writer I get conflicted because if I put just as much effort into my writing as I do with my job who knows where I would be at this point?
Or better yet, how much farther I will go.
I don’t hate my job. It has taken me a very long time to accept that fact because I felt as though in order for me to feel unsatisfied I would have to hate it. But I don’t.
I don’t hate the money either because even after I’ve paid my rent, and car note, and bills, bills, bills I’m not eating dog food during the week like Gertie on Good Times.
What I hate the most is the complacency.
It scares the hell out of me because it would be so easy to settle down and say ‘Yup, this is it. Good pay, nice benefits, easy schedule. I’m set!’
But deep inside my heart and constantly in the back of my mind there’s a voice screaming at me. It’s telling me that I can have what I want and not merely exist within the four walls of a company that values me, but will never value my 100%.
Because honestly I can’t give them my 100% self. That 100% is reserved for my writing.
Imagine, if you will, a life where you believe so strongly in your gift that you invest in it and give it your 110% every day.
In the same capacity that you dedicate those 8 hours of your time and life to a job that could either be here tomorrow or not, what would it be like if you gave that dedication to yourself?
And I get it. Many people have responsibilities they need to take care of that prevent them from pursuing their dreams. But to that I must ask;
Are you not responsible for yourself as well?
Most people approach the work week like this;
Monday; God I hate Monday
Tuesday; At least it’s not Monday
Wednesday; HUMP DAY! Two more days to go.
Thursday; Come on FRIDAY!!!
Saturday; I’m CHILLIN’!
Sunday; Damn, Tomorrow’s Monday!
We all spend so much time speeding up the clocks on our lives waiting for two days of freedom every week.
Let’s do the math shall we;
Most jobs give you the three major holidays off (Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years) so that’s three (3) days.
There are fifty-two (52) weekends (104 Saturdays and Sundays to be precise) in a year, and of those weekends we normally have running around to do, social gatherings and vacations. Let’s take the summer month weekends out of the equation (subtracting twenty-four (24) days), making the free time total now 80 days.
After you’ve added in the major holidays in one year we have a base of about eighty-three (83) days to ourselves, and two hundred eighty-five (285) days of wishing, hoping and speeding through the time we dedicate to our jobs and other responsibilities.
Does this seem like living to you?
Please pay me no mind. These are just some ramblings I’ve got knocking around inside this big head of mine. It merely serves as my reminder to never neglect The Outspoken and always share my gift with the world.
Because writing is my job. And I’m a damn good worker.