Modern Day Indentured Servitude Guised under the Pen Name ‘Full-Time Job’
Still fairly new to the ‘adult’ game, and I must say, Damn.
Somehow between the annoying alarm sound in the morning and the lul of I-95 at night, an entire day passes by. Then the annoying alarm again, and then the lul, and just like that, before I even catch a glimpse, it’s gone. Three more go by, just as quickly, before I see the light of mid-day sun. And even in the best moment, in less time than it takes to meal prep for the week, do laundry, clean the house, side hustle...the stupid adult game starts again with the familiar annoying alarm. Day after day. Week after week. Come to think of it, this entire year has gone by in the same fashion. How is it 2019?
I guess I should be more specific here when I say adult game. Primarily I mean I joined the Rat Race. Aka. I work 8-5 Monday through Friday. Which pretty much means 7-6 by the time you count the commute. Plus, it takes me a few hours worth of chores to be prepared with clean clothes and food to eat for the week.
They say it’s 40 hours, but truth be told, it feels more like a lifetime sentence.
This is not okay.
It might only be 40 hours. But after doing it every week for a little over a year (LOL and so many people doing it for so much longer, how??) it has become clear that 40 hours is not conducive to productivity. I literally cannot be productive, efficient, task oriented, focused, or give my best effort for 40 hours in the 8-5 Monday through Friday structure as it stands. Often, I feel useless, like my brain has fried or turned to mush or some combination of the two. Actually, while I should be being ‘productive, efficient, task oriented…’ etc, I find myself instead spinning restlessly in my wheely chair (channel my inner Michael Scott) and my internal dialogue debating if my brain has, in fact, fried or turned to mush. Debate is still going… I’ll let you know. But anyway, something about being locked to the wheely chair staring at a screen for 8 hours straight, for 5 days in a row, every week, for...forever?, drives me more towards resentment (and insanity?) than productivity.
40 hours a week is also not conducive to a fulfilling life. The constant rushing everywhere, the no time for anything, the dishes FOREVER piling up. I don’t have time to do the things to maintain my well being or my home, how can I properly give time, thought, and love to relationships, experiences, and the truly important things in life? And even when there are a few hours to rest, the last thing I want to do is dishes or get anything of substance done. And sometimes it’s not even not wanting to, it’s like I physically cannot. I can’t. #icanteven My brain is mush. Or fried. Or both. I am capable of little more than sitting in mushy brain fry soup and looking at memes.
Again, more accurately, it’s not so much the quantity of time but the structure it is set up in. Because actually, I can be productive in 40 hours of the week- more even! But in my own way. With flexible scheduling, a little leniency, and just plain old autonomy to #dothework in the times and places I deem appropriate: When the creative juice is flowing. When I’ve had a few minutes to meditate. When my fridge and belly are full. When the laundry is not wrinkled from sitting *clean* in the basket all week, because I haven’t been home for longer than 90 minutes between the hours of 7:30am and 10pm for days. Because apparently adult game means prioritizing. And trade-offs. Sometimes, big ones. And in this case, prioritizing means choosing a few meager hours of sleep over the time it takes for the simple fulfilling joy that is properly folding and putting away your laundry so it doesn’t get wrinkly. Taking care of them. Giving them respect and time and love. And presence.
Would be nice to do that with more than just the laundry.
Is that too much to ask?
I just want more balance.
I’m tired of being tired.
I’m tired of being Perpetually Exhausted.
And on top of it
I’m tired of being physically exhausted. Like, struggle to keep my eyes open at my desk and that getting coffee is second only to logging in to the computer when I arrive. Like, learning that skipping meals is not always a weight loss ploy. Tired like, all the lights are still on but my head hits the pillow and I don’t even notice. Tired like, I cannot put these dishes away right now because I just need to sleep.
I am also exhausted though, in this other way. Less because of lack of sleep (although I have a hunch that sleep is an important ingredient in the mix) and more because as an entire society we’ve got our shullbit bass ackwards.
Yes. You read that right. Shullbit. Bass. Ackwards.
We are missing something. Or avoiding it. Or -and I am leaning towards this hypothesis- being deceived with slight-of-hand chicanery. By people and forces so far beyond our day-to-day lives, that we accept it as okay because most of us don't even have the curiosity or chutzpah to look behind the curtain. Or we don’t even see that there is a curtain. That this is all a strange elaborate delusion of sorts.
And well, sleep doesn’t help if it’s your soul that’s tired.
And this Perpetual Exhaustion, it’s not only the lack of sleep. It’s lack of the sense of freedom. It’s lack of the sense of autonomy. It’s accepting the status quo- mediocre at best- in exchange for ‘stability,’ and ‘security,’? It’s a goddamn deal with the devil. You trade your soul for the promise of being able to keep playing their stupid game by their stupid rules in their stupid structure. Modern day Indentured Servitude guised under the pen name ‘Full-Time Job.’ And the saddest part is that so many have been indoctrinated into it without even having seen the other side, or worse, not even knowing there is another side. Like Plato’s Allegory of the Cave. Like "I haven't had any yet, so how can I have some more of nothing?'
Upon a basis of both physical fatigue and a tired soul. Feeling neither productive nor fulfilled as it pertains to adult-game-rat-race, and this way of life, or my general well-being
How can we evolve as individuals
How can we evolve as a human species
How can we shine in Radiance as the Cosmic Miracle that we are
How can we know deeply the Gift that it is to be Embodied in this lifetime
When the place where those wisdoms live
Are on the other side of the curtain.
The other side