My cheese is running out and I need new cheese.
No one moved my cheese...I just ate the damn thing. Every year, once a year, I sit and decide what new jobs to take up and what jobs to pass. It's not that I only move my rear when I am desperate (that ensures I really move it) but I am always in the process of pitching and re-pitching (if there's a word like that.)
Why do I work?
Why does anyone work?
Money...? Satisfaction? Passion?
A little bit of both...?
I've noticed that I work because it excites me. Don't get me wrong, I love money and definitely fall in the category of people who'd die to get some satisfaction but if the work don't excite you enough then no matter how hard you work, you'll not get anywhere.; how ever much you get paid, you'll never smile. Some of us work for money and power to them. One of the biggest reasons for being able to do certain things and not being able to do certain things is money of the lack of it. Call it pay, salary, fee, remuneration or income it's the one thing that most decisions hinge on. But the funny thing about my line of work is that money, to a great extent, is the most elusive facet of it. You finish your job and wait for the money to show up; you run after your own money; some times it takes month to get a basic amount out of people, 9 out of 10 times the people you work for will not pay on time, you will be experimented upon and given all sorts of inane reasons for the delay; finally you reach a stage where you feel embarrassed to ask for your money.
People who work for satisfaction are a crazier bunch. I think I used to fall in that category but not anymore. I used to have feelings (I still do, at times) but then I got scared of being poor! Add being satisfied to it and you the ideal life and once you have the ideal life then there could be nothing to look forward to. So essentially is being satisfied the beginning of the end? Wow! That's a thought. The deal with satisfaction is that it's a very personal thing. When I don't get money on time or have to pass the option of picking up a book or something, I'm reminded of all the jobs that didn't pay me and force myself to believe that at least, maybe, it got me a sense of satisfaction. And then don't feel like working.
Passion is a close second in my case. Passion can beat the shit out of excitement and satisfaction any day. I like passion in work; it gives you the confidence to boldly tread where anyone else won't venture. It's keeps us hungry and keeps us the fools that we were when we started. But can passion be enough? Sure. More so in the case if you work alone. Remember Van Gogh? Passionately chopped his ear off when the dude couldn't sell his paintings.
Oh the pursuit of cheese!
Image Courtesy: Fiona Katauskas
No one moved my cheese...I just ate the damn thing. Every year, once a year, I sit and decide what new jobs to take up and what jobs to pass. It's not that I only move my rear when I am desperate (that ensures I really move it) but I am always in the process of pitching and re-pitching (if there's a word like that.)
Why do I work?
Why does anyone work?
Money...? Satisfaction? Passion?
A little bit of both...?
I've noticed that I work because it excites me. Don't get me wrong, I love money and definitely fall in the category of people who'd die to get some satisfaction but if the work don't excite you enough then no matter how hard you work, you'll not get anywhere.; how ever much you get paid, you'll never smile. Some of us work for money and power to them. One of the biggest reasons for being able to do certain things and not being able to do certain things is money of the lack of it. Call it pay, salary, fee, remuneration or income it's the one thing that most decisions hinge on. But the funny thing about my line of work is that money, to a great extent, is the most elusive facet of it. You finish your job and wait for the money to show up; you run after your own money; some times it takes month to get a basic amount out of people, 9 out of 10 times the people you work for will not pay on time, you will be experimented upon and given all sorts of inane reasons for the delay; finally you reach a stage where you feel embarrassed to ask for your money.
People who work for satisfaction are a crazier bunch. I think I used to fall in that category but not anymore. I used to have feelings (I still do, at times) but then I got scared of being poor! Add being satisfied to it and you the ideal life and once you have the ideal life then there could be nothing to look forward to. So essentially is being satisfied the beginning of the end? Wow! That's a thought. The deal with satisfaction is that it's a very personal thing. When I don't get money on time or have to pass the option of picking up a book or something, I'm reminded of all the jobs that didn't pay me and force myself to believe that at least, maybe, it got me a sense of satisfaction. And then don't feel like working.
Passion is a close second in my case. Passion can beat the shit out of excitement and satisfaction any day. I like passion in work; it gives you the confidence to boldly tread where anyone else won't venture. It's keeps us hungry and keeps us the fools that we were when we started. But can passion be enough? Sure. More so in the case if you work alone. Remember Van Gogh? Passionately chopped his ear off when the dude couldn't sell his paintings.
Oh the pursuit of cheese!
Image Courtesy: Fiona Katauskas
0 Responses to “Cheese Beckons”
Post a Comment