The Meaning of Life

I hate my job. The people I work with are fucking pricks. There, I said it. They are stupid, lazy, incompetent, obese, ignorant and naive. They champion Che, radical immigrant activism, and anti-American rhetoric while shoveling Winchells donuts down their gullets. They hate the global capitalist state, but drive hot new Acuras and Hondas and Lexuses. Half of them still live at home with their parents while smoking, snorting or drinking the majority of their paycheck. All of the younger ones -- everyone under 30 -- have dreams of completing law school and working to ameliorate the conditions of the poor, but will likely end up whoring out for the corporate capitalist establishment they despise. And I endure this for 40 hours a week so that I can go diving on weekends and travel with my family. This is my fucking life. Why?

I love my parents but I think they screwed me over. I think the parents of a lot of people screw them over, especially parents of gay kids. Our parents spend our entire lives building us up for a future we will likely never see. In all likliness, I won't spawn. I'll never have little runts keeping me up at night and pissing on me at the most inopportune times. So why do I think I need to build up this big career?

I used to make fun of my old roommate because he was 40+ years old and sharing a low-rent apartment with me. He was making about $60,000 a year and had few assets. Oh, he took at least one nice vacation a year. And had, how should I say, some hobbies. Some white, powdery hobbies. And a curiousity for sex clubs.

He grew up poor. His mom likely wasn't beating into his head the idea that he needed to work hard, make lots of money, buy a great house in a good neighborhood for his kids. Hell, she sent him to the grocery store to shoplift pancake syrup.

And, for the most part, I think he's happy.

I got thinking this week about boarding a cruise ship and teaching scuba diving to overweight midwesterners. Could I do it? No. It wouldn't pay very well. (An inside source says somewhere around $1,500 to $1,700 a month plus all living expenses.) $20,000 a year to service my debt with no "career building"? Impossible.

Except, what do I -- a single, gay 27 year-old -- need to build a career for? I'm not worried about my longtime girlfriend Mary Sue accidentally getting knocked up. Timmy and Jenny, my spawn, don't need a Blue Ribbon public school or high-end private education. Shit, my Mercedes doesn't even need refinancing. Why? Because I don't have any of that shit and probably won't.

Why can't I just get it into my thick head that I can just live life. I can call up NCL America, send them my resume and board a ship for 6 months.