Security v. Happiness
Published August 10th, 2010 | 
I’ll admit it: I don’t want to work. Well . . . that’s not exactly true. I want to work — I just don’t want to work at a so-called “real job”.
I’ve been searching for one to no avail. After several recent job rejections in the last few weeks, I’ve used my failure as an excuse to blow-off a possible opportunity for a job interview for a position with an organization I have little chance of gaining and seems to be more trouble than it’s worth to me. But I’m not blowing it off just because I think it’s a waste of time to go after — I’m blowing it off because of that slim chance that I might actually get the job and I cannot fathom working at this place as a suit-wearing, paper-pushing, zombified drone. To be honest, even though I’m not making much money freelance writing, having gotten a taste of the possibility of earning from something I’m good at with the added bonus of having no boss to answer to has made me a little giddy. The necessity of security is at odds with my spiritual need to be free of supervision and rules and crawling out of bed early to commute to a job I cannot abide. It’s a dilemma.
I have this deeply rooted desire to get up at a reasonable hour and spend my days lying around on outdoor chaise lounges with a cold beverage in my hand. I want to write detective novels, play video games and channel my inner Magnum PI. I’ve spent too much of my mortal existence slaving away mostly to the benefit of the people I worked for only to be chewed-up, spit-out, stressed-out, depression and, ultimately, sick with cancer. Security versus peace and happiness? How do I reconcile these two opposing desires?
