Mad World.

There are days, becoming more and more frequent, where I want to ditch this job American Beauty style. Walk into The Boss' office, tell him it's been real nice, but that I need to re-evaluate my life and the direction I'm going. I want to go on a tirade about the symbolic nature of of being Alive and the importance of every action we take. Up until now, I've been able to do this every couple of years. This worked out really well in college - it was always 'what's the next summer job'? 'what's on next semester's class list?' 'what graduate program do I want to enter into?' And so on. Until last year, my life was a series of small markers of success that allowed me to never really get bored. There was always something new that was about to happen. Not anymore.

All around me are familiar faces. Worn out places. Worn out faces.

How many people are bored with life? Wake, wash, dress, work, repeat xs/5. Then lay around for two days dreading the coming Monday? Endless cycles of meaninglessness. How does one escape the ever-present threat of monotony that being an adult presents? Every day I come into this office, I ride the elevator with the same people. Blank looks everywhere. Meaningless paperwork waiting to be completed before moving on to the next stack. No one likes this. Everyone wants to escape. And if you don't, that's even worse.

Bright and early for the daily races. Going nowhere. Going nowhere.

I feel like I'm wasting a good portion of (what should be) my healthy years going through this cycle of working and working, yet never really getting anything accomplished. I mean, I am one of the fortunate few that goes into emotional fits over my job; I do find some solace knowing that my work has a profound effect on me. It feels better than I imagine it would feel to sit around filling out benefit administration paperwork or something really, really awful... But still, I feel like my life belongs to Client X or The Boss or Someone Else. It's not really mine anymore. I don't get to sit around and write poetry and watch the clouds pass or sing to myself quietly.

I find it hard to tell you. I find it hard to take.

I don't always feel this way. Some days are worse than others. Today sucks. I once had a friend who got fed up with life and went to work and quit that following Monday. I want that feeling. But I don't have the luxury. He probably doesn't even have that luxury anymore. I've got a family and medical bills and student loans to pay off and so I keep at it with this nine to five thing. But I don't want to. I want to sit around and drink good wine, go hiking whenever I want. Drive off to California and the beach and visit my family for weeks at a time. I want to retire at the age of 27.

Hello teacher tell me what's my lesson? Look right through me. Look right through me.

There's got to be a way to adjust. There are benefits to being a grown-up. No bedtime. No forced broccoli. No R-rating restrictions... But the trade-off sucks. For all the time I had to think on it and prepare to enter the working world, one would think I would have come up with a better way to inject meaning into the mundane. But I didn't. The practicality has even invaded my imagination. I lie in bed before I have to start getting ready and ask myself: if I had the day off to do whatever I wanted, what would I do? Then I think of something awesome, like heading to Alamere Falls... and find myself wondering 'could I get back in time to not be late tomorrow?' No, I couldn't. If I had the day off I would have to stay local. But I don't have the day off. I've gotta get my ass off to work. Same thing. All the time. Where's the meaning?

When people run in circles it's a very, very mad world.

What's the answer here folks? Do I just deal with it? How do you deal with it? I've tried the whole comparing myself to a starving African child thing, but that doesn't help. Why didn't I end up a concert pianist or a writer or follow my age 12 acting ambitions? If I had gone one of those routes, would I still be searching for meaning? If I were independently wealthy and didn't have to work, would I wonder if I needed to earn my way to the top to find happiness? Will I never be satisfied? I know that most of the people riding the elevator with me won't be. Most people's lives are a constant waiting game. What to do this weekend. What to do this Thanksgiving. What to do over the holidays. Never, 'wow, look what I'm doing RIGHT now.' Who gets to feel that way all the time? Who has the luxury of enjoying every second of their lives... Is it possible? Should it be?