The Maturation Stage...

This is sort of a follow up to the "paycheck lovin man" post. I'd link to it using the handy-dandy link tool, but i'm too lazy. Following, is one of the reasons why.

Dreams are nice. Everyone has nice dreams of the future. Kids especially are very excitable, being told from an early age that they can do anything they want to with their lives. This invariably causes them to have dreams that far exceed reality. Well, i suppose i should walk that back a little bit. It depends on how old the kids are when you ask.

Young kids generally want to do jobs that are seen as heroic or exciting. This usually comes down to policeman or fireman (oops, pardon my mistake there, we live in a more politically correct world, i should have said policemale and firemale). This is actually somewhat realistic but serves to not really prove my point so i'll stop talking about it. Anyway, on to the actual point.

Everyone reading this, who hasn't already figured it out, hence, have "matured" heed my words:

Whatever you think your dreams are... get used to the idea that they will never come true. Life sucks. Get used to it. I thought i wanted to be a doctor, but after the butt-raping otherwise known as the university of tennessee chemistry department, i quickly understood that perhaps that dream was well beyond the scope of my personal achievement level. Much in the same way, many kids are disappointed to find out that they're not good enough at sports to be able to play professionally, or perhaps are just not good looking enough to be famous.

It's a cold reality, but at some point, everyone realizes that fame and fortune are unattainable, and people one by one, like the leaves off a dying tree, fall to the ground known as "cubicle life." I know at this point you'd be quick to mention the people that seemingly have "made it" such as the professional athelets, the actors, the doctors etc... to which i reply that those people are actually computer generated images concocted to keep us distracted long enough to accept the miserable conditions of having to work in a space roughly the same size as a walk-in closet for 8 hours a day (which consequently works out to a little over 7 years over a span of 30 years).

Everyone wants to be rich and/or famous and everyone has grand ideas of how it's going to manifest itself with minimal effort to themselves. This brings me back to the idea of when everyone wanted to be a policedude or a firedude. In actuality, this is a more realistically attainable goal than that of a movie star, rock star, international jewel theif, etc. I mean, when you think about it, those are actually pretty nice jobs. You don't have to sit in a cubicle, you get a snazzy uniform and you get to run red lights (you know, just for fun). I guess the slight, and you do have to call it slight, negative aspect would be the whole risking your life thing. But better than sitting in a cubicle? You bet.

If i had more than one reader, i would mention something at this point about how the chances favor the fact that you're probably reading this from your cubicle as we speak, while looking around to see if the boss is walking around looking in on your progess, as if that mattered seeing as how you've spent the better part of your day rearranging the pictures on your desk and seeing how much ink you could possibly waste on that doodle on the company pad of paper. It's an interesting question to ponder, about dreams and crap, and there are so many aspects to consider, except to say that i can't do it now because i'm off to buy some lottery tickets. Wish me luc... nevermind.



Mitch Hedberg's QotD:

I hate dreaming. Because when you sleep, you wanna sleep. Dreaming is work, you know - there I am, in a comfortable bed, the next thing you know I have to build a go-kart with my ex-landlord. I want to dream of me watching myself sleep.

bonus QotD:

I'm tired of following my dreams. I'm just gonna ask where they're going, and hook up with 'em later.