Never mind

I wouldn’t mind digging a hole. I wouldn’t mind driving the dead. I wouldn’t mind fires or trees. I wouldn’t mind long waits or angry words. I wouldn’t mind animals. I wouldn’t mind blood. I wouldn’t mind toothless sickness or rotting stenches. I wouldn’t mind floods of shit or towering heights. I wouldn’t mind hundreds of daily paper cuts.

I do mind sitting in this cube doing something

I

Hate.

I was doing pretty well there for a while, content with some level of freedom and autonomous activity. But being content never lasts. It fades once realized, like that floating thing in your eye that you know is there but you just can’t look directly at.  

I’m filled with ennui and darn near disregard for this work that I do. There’s nothing but mind numbing redundancy and too many questions I don’t know the answers to.  Actually, I don’t even know the questions.  It’s constantly annoying. I was doing everything I could to get away from this type of mind numbing, dreadful feeling, only to be put right back in it. Not by choice either, it was, “here’s these new responsibilities, do them or you’re out of the job”. What’s one to do?

It’s frustrating to be mired in an arena you do not wish to participate in. It’s like being a gladiator and instead of being trained to deal with the onslaught of another gladiator; you’re just a Christian with a wooden sword fighting the lions. And the lions have guns and thumbs.

I’m not interested in this work that I’m doing, sadly I am good at my job, but I’m not interested in it. It’s just what I do so I can have a place to live, buy food and put gas in the new used vehicle I bought. Because in this demanding, consumer driven world, the accumulation of goods is considered wealth, while the accumulation of enlightened, free thinking is for broke ass philosophy students.

I wouldn’t mind a job at the zoo. I wouldn’t mind being an arm wrestling referee. I wouldn’t mind cleaning the gunk off the bottoms of oil drums. As long as I knew what I was doing and was able to feel proud of the work I had done; I wouldn’t mind at all.