I’m not a rat and this race is killing me

After years of working and education, I find myself feeling more and more that I am not wired for routine.
It’s actually more than that, I’m not wired for:

  • the city,
  • traffic,
  • a boss,
  • an 8 to 5 environment,
  • performance reviews,
  • a monthly salary,
  • individuals called colleagues that I have to interact with, WTF!
  • rules of conduct
  • dressing a certain way
  • absolutely not wired for applying for leave, I mean it’s my fucking life
  • competition to out do people to get ahead

I can actually go on for a while. You know, I’m not even wired for nice things. Yes I like nice things, but I’ve lived and seen people live full and apparent happy lives without nice things. I can do without.
I watched a movie a while back, I don’t remember the title, Helen Hunt was in it. She ran into an old friend; the catch up went something like this:

Friend: “You’re married now, what does your husband do?”

Hunt: “Oh he’s a philosopher.”

Friend: “That’s interesting, which school?”

Hunt: “No, he just stays home and thinks a lot.”
Maybe that’s what I’m wired for.

I won’t even get into motivation and ambition and all that mess. These things are for people in this rat race that I don’t belong in.

I’ll be debt free in a couple of months, God willingly. Going to move back to my mother’s house and think a lot for a year or until I find another way. Or not…we’ll see.

P.s. I’m not depressed, but it is really cold this morning and I work for a soulless organization.


About obialone
I'm random and unwise. I'm always seeking wisdom in its simplest form. I'm scared of not being scared, so I find ways to terrify myself. I care about everything, and I'm interested in all things. I reserve the right to change my mind, anytime. So in most cases I find it best to humble my opinion

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