I have to capture this during my brief moment of clarity. Before I slip back into the cycle of workoholism and alcoholism that I know I do because it happened straight after my vacation in Namibia too. I resent having to work. I resent my shitty white collar job whose sole function it is to tug off some other shitty white collar workers in that cesspit of shitty white collar douchenozzlery that is the bay area startup community. I take my job very seriously. I do it very well. I like my colleagues. I look out for my guys. But I resent every moment I am there. How insane it that to be happy for 5 weeks of the year we have to be miserable for the other 47? In America you don't even get 5 weeks, you only get 2. And only if you're middle class. How is it that not everyone finds this completely unacceptable? Do people actually enjoy working? I don't. For me it's a duty. An obligation that sucks out all joie de vivre.
But because it's Facebook (and because i was walking to work in the rain at the time that i typed it into my phone) i didn't expand on it. One thing i found, after coming back here, is i feel lost in my own town. It happened perhaps a little bit already after coming back from Spain, and more when coming back from Namibia, but after four weeks away it was epic this time around. The idea of coming back to a "home", to a place that's "mine"... A house full of stuff that i lived perfectly happily without for a month... (And it isn't much stuff, just a couple computers and a mattress and some lamps and rugs.) A subway where i know almost blind how to get from A to B. A place where people know my face, if not my name. It just felt wrong. I am so much happier as a traveler. As a curious, transient nobody. Where all i have is what i can carry. All i am is this day. All i know is this place. I am so content in those moments, so at peace. And then i am back here and the weight of familiarity bears down upon me like it's the whole world. I feel weird in a place i know. I feel uncomfortable and anxious. It's not right that it's not alien. It's terrifying that i can't leave whenever i want.
But work traps me. I am trying not to fall back on "i hate my job" because i don't hate my job. I hate working. This is one of the best jobs i've ever had. I do like working here, when the scale goes from shoveling shit in hell to this. But it's still work. I still have to get up at a particular time every day and go to a particular place and do particular things with particular people and i don't want to, i don't want to, i don't want to. I want to get up whenever, go wherever, do whatever, with whoever. Or, more commonly, i want to do nothing at all. I did so much nothing this vacation. Went to the middle of nowhere and did nothing there. It was fucking grand. Because that's all i want to do with my life. That makes me truly, honestly happy. People who say "i can't retire because i don't know what i'd do with myself" can fucking take my job and pay me the money, because i would be more than happy to retire right fucking now. I am done with obligation. I am so, so, so done with having to be places and do stuff and interact with people. Fuck all of them. Fuck it all. I hate it. I do not want it. And i hate that our culture has been built around forcing everyone to still do it. What was the point of technology and human advancement if here in the first world we are still going through the motions of subsistence living? It's pure insanity.
The only thing i know to do where i can feel free without becoming homeless and destitute is move. Again. Maybe it's time to go. Leave the best job i ever had and the best city i ever lived in. Because at least if i leave i won't hate adult life so much, for a while.