the tragedy of work
Today is Tuesday. It was a bank holiday yesterday and I had the afternoon off on Friday. So after 3.5 days of rest I have returned back to working.
I hate it.
Yes, I am aware that my job is essential for my survival. I am aware it is a means to an end. I am aware that much of the things that bring me joy would not be possible without money.
I am also aware that the tasks I see as annoyances at work is literally my job. I am aware that my job is to fix those annoyances. I am aware that I am paid fairly for it too.
But I am also allowing myself to bemoan the fact that every weekday, eight hours of my life are spent on things that did not matter in the grand scheme of things. Time that could be spent on things that consume me. Time that could be spent on reading more books. Time that could be spent learning the philosophy of the Greeks and the Romans. Time that can be spent on music. Time that can be spent filling up my Letterboxd.
I am also aware that this sounds extremely spoiled. I have a pretty decent job. More than what most people pray for. I am aware I am very lucky.
But we are not in a competition of who has it better and who has it worse. I am just lamenting at the time that is lost.
And now I have to go back and care about fucking SEO. FFS.