I remember when I had a real job, like when I was totally unqualified and could potentially get fired. – me explaining to an employee why I hated my work-days after college.
I don’t ever want to work for a living again. Working for a living is extremely stressful. In fact, I hate the word “stressful” because the word does not describe the hopeless world of numbing fear, depression, and impotency I endured, when I worked twelve-hour days at an vile-spirited law firm in mid-town manhattan.
If I ever find myself answering to such depraved souls again, I will grab a sword and “take care of business”.
There’s a joy and purpose in waking up every day to true living. Building anything is strenuous, difficult at times, frustrating, but it’s not what I would call “work.” Or at least, it’s not fair to call what I do daily “work” and what I did at law firms “work.” Frankly, I was just trying to punch a clock, stay out of responsibility, and get as much money as I could for doing as little as possible. Calling both “work” is the equivalent of describing a one-night stand and the relationship with my fiance both “love.”