I have individual talents, y'know? I've been doing retail for about 15 years with various businesses, repeating the cycle of coming in, doing well, promoting up, and burning out.
In all that time, I've developed some abilities that are plenty useful- making displays, building fixtures, driving a forklift, stuff like that. Things that translate into practical skill I can use in other contexts, or at least for other reasons.
I hate my job. I hate the hostage situation of “do this, the most lucrative form of the same miserable work, or else you lose your apartment.” I hate putting in 45 hours a week using my body to do all this heavy lifting just for the privilege of eventually laying down for a while.
But here's the thing- I like the labor. I like to work with my hands, operate heavy equipment, and make things where you can see and appreciate the results.
But I hate that it's always for a company. I wouldn't mind if it was for someone else, like my wife- but it's for some asshole who needs me to do it, because the labor I'm selling him represents a millionth of a percent deviation of the line on the graph that needs to go up for the shareholders.
I don't have the business acumen or desire to exploit others that it would take for me to go into business for myself and have my own employees. I feel like in an ideal world, my antisocial ass would be using these skills to farm, running a tractor and setting up a stall at the market. Up at the break of dawn, putting in the work to produce something real, and getting something meaningful for my effort.
Instead, I'm working graves going through boxes of worthless Christmas backstock because yesterday was Black Friday, a holiday invented by billionaires that you celebrate by giving them more money, and now we've got holes on the ornament aisle, boo hoo.
No part of that is above criticism. It's all fucking stupid and doing this work just leaves me feeling like I've been running in circles.
I could be using my abilities for a real reason that makes a difference, but instead I'm selling them for less than they're worth, for results that don't matter, to someone who's too much of a sociopath to ever care. And THAT, more than anything else, is driving me insane. It's why I'm anti-work.
Just for once in my life, I'd like to break a sweat for an actual reason that matters. Labor is fine with me, but I think that's where the distinction lives. I'll never mind laboring to achieve something useful, and that's a hell of a lot different from the kind of “work” I do every day.
If you read all this, thanks. I hope someone can relate.