If money were out of the equation, would you still work? If yes, why, and how much? If not, what would you do with your free time?
First of all, HALLELUJAH for me finally getting back on a computer after a week with just my phone (hence my short/non-existent posts lately). This feeling is not at all consistent with the fact that I wish I was still in New Mexico with my awesome family and dry weather there, but alas. My hometown even welcomed me with open cloud-arms today as rain poured constantly. “Let me smother you with my love,” it’s saying. “I know you missed this obscenely thick humidity; don’t deny it.”
Why is this question being posed to a community of writers? I do not understand.
Alright, so there are the occasional doctors, bankers, and lawyers who have blogs, but I feel like so many bloggers write because that’s what they do with the rest of their lives too.
So technically I don’t work. I suppose there’s my job at the YMCA, but ten hour work weeks cannot be called “work.” It’s me saving up to buy all of my textbooks for next semester (*cries*). My dream career, however, does involve me writing, maybe even someday from the comfort of my own home. Shut up; a girl can dream.
This does, however, make my work something of a hobby that could possibly pay very well or very badly, depending on the quality of my work and my connections. I want to write for a living because that is legitimately what I want to do for the rest of my life. Despite my mother’s obvious hopes that I would overcome this childish notion and realize my dream to become a doctor or a lawyer, I’ve stuck with this dream for a long time.
Why would I give that up?
If money were out of the equation, I’d probably write more. I’d have to worry about taxes and other awful money things less, giving me more time and more creative energy to do what I love. I did consider the possibility of just doing nothing, or maybe even travelling. I’ve got a very specific thought about that idea, however. Basically here it is: if you grew up with Christmas, there’s no way you don’t love it, right? Family, giving, awesome food, maybe a little drama but overall a good time. Doesn’t it make you want to have Christmas every day? Wait, oh right. Christmas would become the norm, making it less special and therefore less fun. Same goes for all things good. I’m not a workaholic — I love my very occasional breaks, but having nothing but a break would make it that less special. Like Christmas. You follow me? Good.
I’ve also discovered since being in a house of seven adults, two college students, three children, and two infants for a week, that I love chaos. I’m reluctant to throw myself into anything at first, but I honestly feel so satisfied if I can go to sleep at 11:00 completely exhausted after a long day of just doing things. It didn’t matter if it was hiking 8,000 ft of elevation down to the Rio Grande and back up again or playing Risk with the kids (trust me, it’s exhausting); it just felt good to be active.
Work, bring it on. I’ve said this before, but if it takes years of fetching a director coffee, I’m ready. Rich or poor, I’m living this life to do something with it, not sip martinis on the beach.