I once told a man, it´s not the work I hate so much, it´s the working on another man´s schedule that happens to bother me. I´m not one for plans, if you need an example, the move out to Victoria should be more than enough to show that I tend to throw caution to the wind. Thankfully, I still have quite the bank account holding me afloat that the need for employment has yet to be a necessity.
They say do what you love for work and it won´t seem like work at all. If there´s one thing I can certainly confirm, it´s that finding new euphemisms for the word ´genitals´ is a tough fucking career choice. I don´t mind sex, so I´ve considered the prospect of selling my body to sixty/seventy year old women in exchange for presents and food. Both of these career choices seem a little far fetched, but you´d be surprised what kind of situations Mr. Charlton has weaseled his way into (it´s how I earned the nickname Weasel, actually. Story for another day).
Most jobs are places that people would rather not be at. I´m not saying that they´re bad jobs, but if I gave most people the choice between their passion and file management, well, let´s not kid ourselves. The employment world, noticing this, has attempted to emulate fun at the workplace. This can create mixed results. Spirit teams have now replaced what once was a bottle of bourbon tucked in a desk drawer. Corporate games are now all the rage, with bouts of laser tag and tug of war to stimulate the weary worker.
Some companies, that lack the resources to host such events, have to make due with the resources they´ve got. At one firm, after I had mentioned that I play the harmonica, I was told it might be fun to start a ´company band´. She further suggested that I name the band ´The <insert company name> Band´. I politely told her that I´d rather nail my foreskin to the floor and play the cock bass than do the aforementioned. At another company, the workers would tease each other with racial slurs and homophobic rants. The vice president once mused that perhaps a solution to homosexuals was to put them in a furnace (no people, I´m not making this shit up).
I´ve met some incredibly intelligent, thoughtful people through work. I´ve also met some people whose lack of self perception was so thoroughly stunning that it shocks me to this day that these shitty people quite often have children. Maybe that´s why I´m a little hesitant to get back in the game. I still have time, so I might as well use a little more of it.
Is that to say I´m not preparing? Fuck no, people. Mr. Charlton doesn´t allow himself a lot of downtime. If I´m not writing stuff or learning stuff, I´m out and about meeting people. It ain´t what you know but who you know, if anyone tells you otherwise, they´re selling you snake oil. In this day of facebook and fifteen minute fame, you´re no longer selling a product, you are the product. And you better goddamn well believe what you´re selling is the bomb or else the market will smell your lack of confidence and jerk you around because they know you won´t be struggling. You want a job? You better have an in with someone on the inside, a spokesperson. You want someone within the company selling you or else you´re just another resume in a stack. And be sure that your spokesperson isn´t a fuck up. If the guy is getting blazed at lunch time or has crashed the company truck one too many times, that person may not be the best person to be selling your brand.
Truth be told, I despise marketing bullshit to the core. Half the words that came outta my mouth make me want to stab myself in my voice box. It´s the truth, though. It´s what we, as people, respond to. Psychologists for the last eighty to ninety years have been paid to find a way into the brain to sell a commodity. After all these years, we´re not even selling a product anymore, we´re selling ourselves. Is that a bad thing? Maybe. If you ever wanted a reason as to why a grown man would spend his life collecting dolls (I mean action figures) so he could be the ´Ninja Turtles Guy´, maybe we can look to the fact that every Saturday of his childhood was spent watching hours of thirty minute long toy commercials.
What´s my point? Work sucks. That about sums it up. I guess I just find it bizarre that people spend so much time and agony and frustration at work with the only upside is a lifestyle they feel isn´t shameful. That an entire life is spent trying to feel... shameless. You want my advice? Stop worrying about what other people think about you, because usually they are far too worried about what people think of THEM to spend the mental energy to focus on you.
Sincerely,
The Illustrious Mr. Charlton
p.s. You wanna know how I stopped giving a fuck? I´ve studied under fucking GURUS of not giving a shit. Maybe one day the student will become the master. But who gives a fuck.
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