| That's so bleak. I think I'd sooner go back to drugs and homelessness than face the thought of waking up every day to give the majority of my waking hours to something I don't care about. For almost the rest of my life. Or even worse, something I disliked/working for trash people. I used to have panic attacks thinking about this when I worked mundane, dead-end jobs. Pardon my language but: the fuck is the point even? At least if you're high, in a park reading a book or papers on the internet you're enjoying life. I'm being genuine and not trying to be antagonistic, I'm not sure I understand why you bother to work at all? If you don't find anything in the world interesting, what gives you the will to live and not commit suicide? |
Furthermore, what I enjoy changes radically from month to month. Earlier this month I was enthralled by geology and thought about how awesome it would be to be a geologist. Now, something else has captured my attention and I rarely think about geology. Soon, I'll move on to something else.
So, at best, a job can keep my interest for maybe 2 to 3 months, I'm burned out within a year and I can usually manage to stay for about two years total before my productivity abruptly drops to near zero. To me a job is solely a means to obtain money and time off so that I can go do what I actually enjoy.
To me, you're just as much as an enigma. How could you possibly enjoy doing the same thing for a long period of time? What do you do when you are consumed by the euphoria that comes when you finally find something new that finally scratches that insatiable itch inside of you? The indescribable joy and obsession that makes everything that's come before seem empty and jejune by comparison?
Though I have been diagnosed with pretty severe ADHD, so that probably explains a lot of it.