What really matters
The fact of the matter is that any dayjob eventually becomes tiresome, annoying and probably retarded. Just in case, this isn’t a universal truth, it’s simply my own experience. Sure, there might be days where you think you’re grabbing the bull by the horns and doing your part in the world, but for every fulfilling day I’ve experienced, I’ve had week’s worth of hating what I’m doing with my life, not necessarily because my job is THAT sucky, but because let’s face it, we’d rather be doing something else.
We look out the window and fantasize about surfing, having a picnic or going on vacation. We see our workload and wonder if it’ll ever lessen off enough for us to get to what matters most, the things we really want to do with our lives.
Then you see a pattern emerge. Wake up, shower, brush your teeth, go to work, hate someone at your job because the universe has conspired against your awesomeness and all efforts to grow professionally are stymied by a variety of reasons. Everything becomes suspect, every word has an intention, the negative side of anything is clear to you and your hate is eventually justified so well that it would hold up in a court of law.
Then someone at your job dies.
There’s such a thing as throwing a wrench into the machinery of perception, but unfortunately life and death are not so well thought out, really. You think you have a plan but most times you’re so busy that you respond on mechanized instinct and get your stuff done only to continue putting your hate in a silo, saving it for that perfect day. But when someone dies in their office, it definitely puts things in perspective; quite a few things actually.
For starters, dying at work must rank as one of the last places you’d ever pick to die. Simply because it goes against the adventuring nature that for me should be in all of us. Also because it’s like passing away in prison, a wild animal that expired in a zoo and various other similes that at first glance might not make sense, but when you really think about it, it maybe does.
Second off, add the fact that I always seem to find a nemesis to channel my bountiful hate. It might be justifiable, it might not. Hell it might just even be the tendency of circumstances falling unfavorably in regards to my professional development, but the reality is that at pretty much every job I’ve had, I’ve found someone that embodies enough hateful characteristics that they’ve earned a permanent spot in my reference book when I want to talk shit about a type of person. But is it really all worth it? What if that person suddenly died? Would I still harbor hate? Or would I switch to the sympathy we almost always phase into when someone fades away.
The third point, and probably what matters most to me about the passing of a coworker was my relationship with said fellow. We’re talking about someone who had a hard time summoning a smile for a good morning. But with charm, perseverance and the desire to get him to be a bit happier, he not only smiled at me, but called me by name, asked about my wife and life, asked how everything was going, commented about work and about how things are sometimes so hard. This person, who was inaccessible to 90% of the people he came in contact with, shook my hand, gave me pats on the back, and always managed to say thank you for the extra effort shown when I had to work on one of his projects. I’m sorry that he passed away, and sorrier that he passed away at work and though I could say I’m also sorry that some people in my department can’t show the same type of appreciation, that shouldn’t even be mentioned in a comparative context.
I hope that everyone who is kind enough to enjoy our ranting is ok and that you enjoy your weekend. After all, that’s what really matters.
Cheers
We look out the window and fantasize about surfing, having a picnic or going on vacation. We see our workload and wonder if it’ll ever lessen off enough for us to get to what matters most, the things we really want to do with our lives.
Then you see a pattern emerge. Wake up, shower, brush your teeth, go to work, hate someone at your job because the universe has conspired against your awesomeness and all efforts to grow professionally are stymied by a variety of reasons. Everything becomes suspect, every word has an intention, the negative side of anything is clear to you and your hate is eventually justified so well that it would hold up in a court of law.
Then someone at your job dies.
There’s such a thing as throwing a wrench into the machinery of perception, but unfortunately life and death are not so well thought out, really. You think you have a plan but most times you’re so busy that you respond on mechanized instinct and get your stuff done only to continue putting your hate in a silo, saving it for that perfect day. But when someone dies in their office, it definitely puts things in perspective; quite a few things actually.
For starters, dying at work must rank as one of the last places you’d ever pick to die. Simply because it goes against the adventuring nature that for me should be in all of us. Also because it’s like passing away in prison, a wild animal that expired in a zoo and various other similes that at first glance might not make sense, but when you really think about it, it maybe does.
Second off, add the fact that I always seem to find a nemesis to channel my bountiful hate. It might be justifiable, it might not. Hell it might just even be the tendency of circumstances falling unfavorably in regards to my professional development, but the reality is that at pretty much every job I’ve had, I’ve found someone that embodies enough hateful characteristics that they’ve earned a permanent spot in my reference book when I want to talk shit about a type of person. But is it really all worth it? What if that person suddenly died? Would I still harbor hate? Or would I switch to the sympathy we almost always phase into when someone fades away.
The third point, and probably what matters most to me about the passing of a coworker was my relationship with said fellow. We’re talking about someone who had a hard time summoning a smile for a good morning. But with charm, perseverance and the desire to get him to be a bit happier, he not only smiled at me, but called me by name, asked about my wife and life, asked how everything was going, commented about work and about how things are sometimes so hard. This person, who was inaccessible to 90% of the people he came in contact with, shook my hand, gave me pats on the back, and always managed to say thank you for the extra effort shown when I had to work on one of his projects. I’m sorry that he passed away, and sorrier that he passed away at work and though I could say I’m also sorry that some people in my department can’t show the same type of appreciation, that shouldn’t even be mentioned in a comparative context.
I hope that everyone who is kind enough to enjoy our ranting is ok and that you enjoy your weekend. After all, that’s what really matters.
Cheers
