My nine-pound hammers

Office cubicle, circa 2001This is my scheduled Tuesday post, but as I sit here and write this, it is still Monday morning before work. It’s a special period of time I like to call The Dark Time. I just woke up and before I know it, lickity split, I’ll be back in the shit hole.

The act of going to work has a physical and emotional impact on me. The closer it gets to 9am the more ill I feel. And on Mondays this effect is especially pronounced.

Because I love my job so much I thought this would be a good time to share a couple of videos about work.

As we all know, those of us who work full time have to face certain realities. The first is that in a typical week, “work” is the single most important aspect of our existence based on the amount of time. As far as hours are concerned, work is rivaled only by sleep. If you think about your week as a pie chart, things like spouses and family are inconsequential slices compared to work and sleep. And one of the smallest slivers that can be found in that pie? Time spent doing things we enjoy and voluntarily get to do. In other words, the time we spend doing what we choose to do. For most of us, that’s the smallest part of the whole damn week.

John Henry StatueSo it is important to step back and evaluate our existence from a different perspective. How is work working out for us? Is it meeting our needs? Or only those of the boss?

It’s a surprising idea to think that we can take more ownership of our work experience and proactively make it better for us. This idea is explored in the first video.

In the second video, some important questions are raised. Why is it required for employees to go to places called offices which are actually obstacles to work getting done? How is it possible to get more work done? And who and what gets in the way?

So, the theme of this Monday morning post is fittingly: Work. It’s what’s for dinner. (Or something like that.)

4 responses

  1. Video one – totally agree.

    Video two – enjoyed it until the Mister interrupted and said he didn’t agree with anything being said. Thus speaks a former manager.


    1. Video one – cool biscuits!

      Video two – say what??? Well, yeah, I guess it would be more challenging. I can testify, though. Verily, I can unto you, as one of the “programmer” types he mentioned, every time a goddamn phone rings it’s like my brain just got wiped with a magnet. I have to do a double take and say, “Now what the bloody hell was I working on?”

      I liken it to trying to solve a Soduku while bullets whiz around you.

      My work day is nothing but interruptions and that’s a fact.

      You neglected to mention the third video, which, as it turns out, is the most important. I’ll have to see why WP isn’t embedding it correctly.


  2. When I found that I was “incapable” (due to temperment/ personality/ “issues” whatever) of doing the great-paying job thing, my goal was to find a M-F FT job that allowed me to LEAVE and then have *my* time for whatever I wanted.

    I’ve made even less money over the past 3 years (now 4) instead of even small raises–last year I made 1/4 less than I made 2 years before–but in spite of my family situation, I really am a pretty happy person.

    I’d rather do more social things but that’s more about where I live (too far away). I’d rather live in what looks like the middle of a national park than in a suburb, so you really can’t have “it all.” I truly love owning a huge piece of property. I love privacy. After my parents die, I’ll probably live in a suburb fairly close to a city. I will greatly miss owning a huge swath of land that’s mine, mine, all mine.


    1. Owning a piece of land has always been a dream of mine. As it looks more and more impossible, though, I find my thoughts turning elsewhere. 40 hours a week is a long bloody time. Do I really want that? Hell no. Most days I’m miserable almost to the point of tears working for someone else. What are my options? Grab a shopping cart and live in a plastic box? Become a drifter? Live in the woods? Go to the arctic and make my own igloo? One thing is certain: My health plan wouldn’t be any fucking worse than I have right now.

      I’m still pondering how in the hell I’m supposed to find “balance” between work and home life. I’d really like that. Of course, at this point, I’d happily settle for not hating every single nanosecond of work. I’ll never achieve the dream of “loving” what you do for a living, but not being tortured would probably be enough.


Bringeth forth thy pith and vinegar

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