Musings

The bad thing about spending too much time in an airport, besides the awful lady smacking her gum and talking too loudly on her phone with an obnoxious ring (I am going to New Jersey, apparently), is it gives me time to think. Ruminate. Time to look around at the life passing me by, time to be annoyed that an iTunes movie takes 4 hours to rent, and time to wonder what it is all about.

I have always been of the very strong opinion that work exists to let me live my life. I am to do a great job while I am there, but I have no interest in it defining me. It is a big reason why it drives me so crazy when you get the inane cocktail party, "What do you do?" banter. I mean, come on, what do I DO? I love my family. I love photography. I travel. I read. I conduct Beethoven in my car at high volume. That's what I do!

But I digress. I am in an airport. And it sucks. So much  of what I have to spend my time doing lately sucks. I know the pain I am experiencing gives me shit colored glasses to start with, but really - what the hell is the point of it all? Is making money a true end game? It can't be. Because it is so unfulfilling. So what? Don't get me wrong, making money is better than not making money, but it cannot be the sole purpose to wake up each day.

I really need a change. Like move to an Indian ashram and not speak for 3 months kind of change. But I don't want to punish my family to do it, so I am realistic. But I also cannot wake up this unhappy with what I need to "accomplish" each day.

I need a change.