It's 5am and the day hasn't even properly gotten started yet. I'm feeling the
urge to node anyway. Need a theraputic outlet.
Woke at the familiar, unsolicited time of 3:17am, adrenalin super-charging my brain, burning emotional rubber. No specific fear, I think. Made redundant from my titsup.com at the end of last month and starting my new job at dull.co.uk at the start of next month. It's a fat pay rise and plenty security but a small, respected gland deep in my brain is twitching away like a mad thing.
It's not so much the potential dullness of the task set, the suspected insipidness of the workmates or the soul-decaying anonymity of working in dilbertsville that scares me ('tho they do -- bigtime). No, it's the feeling that day by day, month by month and year by year, I'm pissing my life away. That I'm looking for bigger bucks, more status and nicer things when what I really want is to get a feeling several times a day that what I'm doing is worthwhile and has made something a little better. I guess I'm talking job satisfaction, even life satisfaction.
Having time to think freely really messes me up.