i don't wanna work....

i just wanna bang on a drum all day.

i know that's not possible... unless i won the lottery or something, and even then, that'd be a kinda lame way to live life as a millionaire... sitting around my house banging on a drum all day when my millions beckon to be spent.

most days i rationalize work as survival. once upon a time we used to hunt our food and use the hides for clothing. and that sounds like a sorta sucky existence so over time things have evolved and we got what we have today. so as much as working for a living seems to suck, i tell myself that it's probably way more awesome than hunting down my dinner and being dead by 30.

i should almost be ashamed to even come close to complaining about what i got and what i do for a living. this is a fucked up world with a lot of people in way more fucked up predicaments than me. me... i'm comfortable. i'm not starving. i eat well. i sleep well. i have cable tv and a twitter account with 172 followers.

i just wish my job had a bit more 'rock star' flavor to it. i don't feel like i do anything enjoyable or awesome or important. fans aren't lining up to high five me for that awesome excel spreadsheet i worked on. i'm nobody's first pick in their fantasy administrative professional league draft.

there's no solution here. well there is, but it doesn't end well. i could sell all my worldly possessions, get a van, learn three guitar chords and hit the road. i'd be crawling back to my comfortable office job existence by july. kerouac i am not. kerouac was willing to starve. kerouac was willing to get his hands dirty. i want to order pizza by phone and pay someone else to change the oil.

i'm not sad or bummed. i'm just immensely humbled by a realization....