A “Work” Blog…I guess. Well, the topic is work, and–you know what, the blog will explain.

So, I wanted to write an article in August for Rookie’s September theme, which was of course, work (I never sent it in though.) A spectrum of daily life, at least professional, I’m completely inexperienced at. Never been paid five dollars for anything I’ve done. Maybe one dollar, but that’s the limit my friends. Okay, to back to the point. I was in my T.V Broadcast class one day, and since it was the beginning of school, we weren’t doing anything, so I decided to write about work. Anything that came into my mind on a separate sheet of paper that I now need to throw away because I’m trying to clean out the excess papers laying around aimlessly in my room. As a result, I stopped cleaning, and will now type up my thoughts on work, because I want to, even though it’s not that good. Maybe bad. Anyways, here it is:

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The Should-Be Phrase of Work

I think we can all learn from Michael Scott.

A former office paper salesman turned manager of paper salesman who goes to work everyday.

But you see, Michael Scott…

Michael Scott loves to go to work. Michael Scott wants to go to work.

scottwork

Well, with some exceptions. (You know what…Dwight Schrute would have been a better example for this… Oh well.)

Dwight-from-the-office

That’s a really rare feeling to encounter nowadays. A study done in Gallup’s 2013 State of American Workplace Study showed that only 30% of people legitimately enjoyed their job, and the sad, sad sack of 70% of people, as the study states, were “disengaged” from their work. In other words, freaking hated getting up in the morning, cursing the shining sun, plopping down on the driver’s seat of their car, and steeping foot inside the place they were forced to call, “their office.”

Sometimes, I look at people, or rather working adults in my life, whether they are teachers, dentists, doctors, engineers, stay at home parents, and I take a quick moment to look into their eyes, look at the way they walk or smile, and sense the hoax of it all. I think some of the hardest gestures to listen to are the sighs of ignorance, followed by a pattern of limp shrugs of regret.

And I wonder for a second if they are happy doing what they get up every morning to do. I mean, it’s a genuine fear of mine, realizing that I there’s a big chance that I won’t like what I’m spending my life on, 20 some years from now. A time where I don’t appreciate or pay gratitude to the earth for giving me the place that my life is in. This “work” thing is unfortunately in my very near freaking future. How can I keep myself from thinking about it?

So recently, to avoid thinking of a future I don’t want, I started imagining another future. Both possibilities, different probabilities…

Anyways, there’s this really famous common phrase among all working adults:

“Sorry, I have to go to work. See you later.”

Maybe, “See you later,” is not always mentioned, but that’s besides the point. But it does usually have the infamous term “Sorry,” mentioned in the phrase somewhere, adding in an “I can’t.”

But there is this other phrase, one that I know has to exist somewhere out there in the world.

“Umm, I want to go to work…not sorry.”

I WANT TO GO TO WORK MAN. Want to. I want to be able to say that. Everyone should be able to say that. But people don’t say that. It’s not the norm, you know? Even if they do like working, it’s not usually spoken.

Going to work because it’s your desire rather than a force. Sure, maybe some people love going to work so much it’s a compulsive obsession and they really do HAVE to go to work to breathe…but that’s a special case.

As needy as it may sound to say it, work should be a want. It should make the deepest chambers of your heart tingle, cause your lips to unknowingly and naturally smile, your eyes to glisten, your self to feel proud of your part in the world.

I mean, can you imagine it? Doing something that you love, that you feel makes a difference not only in your life, but in the life of others.

To love work so much that you use it as an excuse to escape angst-y social situations/settings.

I mean, that, is the dream.

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