Don’t Worry, Be Happy

I wish I could worry less about life and the world around me. I’d even settle for one out of two.

The desire to just, check out, watch TV and let day after day swim by is strong. Caring takes a lot of energy. Plus, all the news is depressing. Even the good stuff carries weight.

I’m not the first person to have these thoughts. I’m sure that the Athenian philosophers of old felt the same way about the wars with Sparta.

They didn’t even have Netflix.

As of this writing I am still waiting to hear back about a good job. A perfect job in fact, one I know I could sink my teeth into and feel like I was accomplishing something with my life.

Something like that is hard to come by so I am understandably nervous about my chances. I think I did everything right but Lady Luck and I have never gotten along. I’m hopeful but cautious. The hope decreases exponentially as each day goes by.

As it often does.

Since January I’ve probably applied to at least one hundred jobs, give or take twenty. Of those jobs, I’ve gotten some form of rejection email from perhaps fifteen. At least they let me know for sure they weren’t interested. That was nice of them.

As far as interviews go, I’ve had four. Three by phone and one in person. One of the phone interviews was supposed to lead to second, but they never got back to me. Like I was someone they met on Tinder or something.

Another interview was for a job that misrepresented the basics. I thought it was full time work, they thought I was some fresh college student willing to take any employment even if it mean being discarded six months later like a paper cup.

In some ways though, I am.

None of it is up to me, of course. A lesson I always knew but optimistically believed wouldn’t matter. However, I have little to distinguish me from the many other qualified people out there searching for the same line of work. I can’t point to much that isn’t readily available to many others. I can only send out my resume and hope something comes back. A majority of the time only silence returns.

It’s discouraging to say the least.

To elaborate, it’s frustrating. I finished that book of Mastery I spoke about last week. In it they talk about “the apprenticeship” phase of mastery. This is where you take whatever opportunity that comes your way, as long as it will let you learn the ins and outs of what you want to do. Even if it’s only tangential at first.

Therein lies the problem. First you must figure out what it is that you are called to do. All the greats apparently had a feeling of purpose. A desire they couldn’t quench.

Have I discovered that about myself?

Perhaps.

That sort of knowledge is really only available in retrospect. But I am still waiting to find something that will let me pursue what I’ve come to hope is my purpose. There are no tips and tricks in the book to solve that particular problem.

Nothing about what to do if you got it wrong either.

To be fair, if everyone could do what they wanted there would be too many video game testers. The book makes it sound so simple though. Find a way to earn a living doing what you love. What you wake up every day wanting to do. Then learn all you can until you are skilled enough to strike out on your own. Don’t be lazy about the work involved. Focus, focus, focus.

There, I’ve spoiled most of it for you. When you boil it down it sounds like every by the bootstraps speech you’ve ever heard. Unfortunately for me, I can’t get started until I get a job. So far, getting over that last hurdle has been almost completely out of my control. So, I check Twitter obsessively to feel like I’m involved in the world around me.

Every day I forget how depressing my Twitter feed is. Even if it’s awful it helps me feel like I’m in the study phase at least. And lately it’s always been terrible.

Always.

Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Purpose

I’ve been listening to another one of those self-improvement type audiobooks. Same author as the one about the laws of power. Must be a pretty nice gig collecting the combined wisdom of the ancients and organizing it for the rest of us fools. I would see about getting in on that racket but this guy seems to have it locked up pretty tight.

The book is called “Mastery” and deals with something I’ve contemplated myself. How do the legends of humanity get etched into history? Some people would say they were born with it. Maybe it’s a TV jingle. It certainly might seem to be true. After all, didn’t someone steal Einstein’s brain after he died to try and figure out what made him special?

Brain theft. What a caper. Probably isn’t true though.

Turns out not much is different about the father of relativity’s grey matter. At least, that’s what this book seems to be arguing, the effort is what matters. Nothing else. I wouldn’t know for sure because as of this writing I’m not even half finished. But like many internet denizens I feel imminently qualified to speak on something of which I only understand a small part.

In other words, this isn’t a book review.

I’ve wondered though, many times, what it is that separates those who accomplish and those that muddle through life. In some ways, it’s comforting to think that it’s all up to genetics, circumstances, or sheer luck. Takes the pressure off. I can’t help being mediocre if I was just born to it. Excuse me while I drink myself into a stupor to forget my problems.

It’s never that easy though. Nothing in life is because if it were we might never have moved off the savannah. If the cold didn’t matter, then we wouldn’t have figured out fire. No fire, no electricity. No electricity, no world spanning mega culture.

Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad.

Birds don’t need to figure out how to get a job and pull themselves up by their bootstraps. They just got to fly and find food. If they’re lucky, they’ll find a spot where one of us puts out the food for them. Because we like their pretty colors. Birds have got it made in the shade brother.

What’s our excuse?

We dreamed of something bigger and better. Looked up at the night sky and wondered to ourselves, why? Then some of us figured out that question. Busted their ass on it. Which led to new questions and new answers. A never-ending cycle. What did we achieve? The power to shape the planet in our image, even if it means destroying the whole thing in the process.

Take that birds.

Catching up to life

The idea of leaving one life behind and living another is often something left to the movies or TV. A high-level snitch placed into witness protection. A middle-aged boring guy ditching that depressing office job for life as a surf instructor. A family of yokels finding out some distant relative had billions of dollars and left it all to them.

It’s nice to dream.

Most of those stories don’t talk about what happens if you return to your old life. If the story hinges on escape or change, it doesn’t make for a happy ending to end up back where you were before the main event. Losing billions of dollars or returning to a life of crime wouldn’t be that great in the grand scheme or even in the medium scheme.

Luckily for me, it wasn’t all that bad. At least I wasn’t giving up life as a beach bum.

Discovering that travel might not be the cure for what ails you is more common than those other fictional scenarios, I suspect. Beaches get boring and mega cities are hard places to find fulfillment. Easy to lose yourself, though. At least that was the case with me. I’ve already talked a lot about what it felt like to leave behind one life for another.

How does the return compare to the exodus itself? That’s a harder comparison to judge. A year into my time in Japan I had made new friends and was enjoying my life as a club hopper. What money I had went into beer, cigarettes and late night ramen. Work was just a means to an end. Coal for the insatiable furnace of debauchery.

But there’s a time and a place for everything and it’s called your twenties.

I’m more than a year back in the United States and things are progressing at a much slower pace. I arrived in Japan with a life set up for me. Pre-packaged and ready to go.

I left with little more than the jealousy that comes when a friend flashes cash and a desire to do the same. It’s fortunate that I don’t drink, smoke, or club anymore. Not that the city of Wilmington is known for its outrageous night life.

With more years come further refinement of tastes. My group of friends have gone from cheap beer swilling pool sharks to micro-brew chugging tool jockeys that are also local real estate experts. It’s hard not to get jealous of fancy things like hard wood floors, brushed steel appliances, and equity.

It’s also hard to shake how I treated myself ten years ago now that I’m back where I started.

I wasn’t super cool when I left. Hard to picture, isn’t it? Now, I am outrageously cool. Cooler than a crystalline Christmas cucumber. It took a long time for me to come to grips with this indisputable fact. Unfortunately, I can tell it isn’t second nature like it should be. I have to actively keep on top of my awesomeness when I’m around old friends. Or else I’ll fall into the same patterns as before.

That’s what I mean by catching up. While I was bathing in the concentrated amazing that is Tokyo, Japan, absorbing that power into my soul, everyone else was buying houses and shit.

Life is a series of trade-offs, I suppose.

My First Principle Event

The heat wouldn’t go away. My memories of September tend more towards the “briskness” of early fall. Perhaps that’s just a rose-colored view of the past. Or maybe it’s global warming. Anyway, it was still hot. To be fair, early September is still basically August. What’s the point of all this weather talk? I was about to spend a lot of time outside.

For anyone that doesn’t understand what I mean by “principle event”, it’s the term campaigns use when a major figure gives a speech or makes a public appearance. For us that meant anyone named Clinton or Obama with Kaine or Biden thrown in for good measure. Trump had himself and Pence. We were a bit busier probably than our Republican counterparts.

Being in the largest city in one of the most fought after swing states meant we were going to be busy constantly. Many of my co-workers still spoke in hushed tones about the joint Clinton-Obama event that had taken place a month or so earlier. At the height of the Southern summer heat. Again, with the weather. Why does it matter? Because organizers don’t set up the event in the cool comfort of air conditioning. That’s Advance.

We work the line.

During my two months on the campaign I worked seven principle events. The majority of those I did sign in and line management. The best way to learn just how angry people can get when asked to give up their email. It’s just an email, ya’ll. Give me the spam Hotmail account you never check. I don’t care. But please don’t act like I’m trying to steal your identity.

Anyway.

My first principle event arrived less than a week after I started. A big one too. Hillary Clinton herself. That’s right, I had to learn event work after only a few days on the job and during a speech by the main candidate.

It went as well as could be expected.

Luckily, I was posted to parking duty. I’m not sure if it’s because someone took pity on me or if fate smiled that day. Parking was easy work and it got easier as the lot fills up. The best thing is no one can yell at you really. It’s easy to see there are no open spots and if you’re not there in time it’s hardly the parking guy’s fault.

None of this stopped some people from getting angry but Americans are an entitled bunch.

Eventually, they stop letting in cars. That’s when I got my first taste of the line. Sounds like I’m talking about starting a cocaine habit but it’s far more exhausting. Remember when I talked about the heat? The parking lot was in shade for the most part. The line, not at all. I handed out bottles of lukewarm water and made sure people were signed in.

Thankfully, everyone in line was on the same team. The mood was joyous and excited for the most part. Spirits were high. I bought my first campaign T-shirt ever from one of the traveling merchants that always spring up outside events. Not a lot of Obama swag made it over to Japan and my political activism in college began and ended at the voting booth.

I put it on over my other shirt, which was dumb. Because of the heat.

A chance to move inside for the speech opened up for me thanks to the sacrifice of one of the organizers I trained with. He volunteered to stay outside and catch stragglers instead of escaping the heat. I did not have his moral strength. I’m perfectly fine with siphoning off some of his for my own use, though.

Which is why he’s currently one of my job references.

I kid of course. We all shouldered the burden together at different times. That’s what it means to be a team. That’s what I was thinking as I stood in the midst of the crowd and its roiling energy. That’s when I knew that I was doing something important. It’s when I knew I’d be able to make it through whatever the campaign could throw at me.

It was when I knew I had made the right choice.

Trump is padding his legislative resume.

The Trump administration wants you to believe that they are getting things done. You might hear something along the lines of “nobody has passed more laws in this amount of time.” Or something equally pedantic.

For the record here is the list of all legislation passed in the current Congress. I have tallied them under some broad categories. Keep in mind that Republicans control both houses of Congress and the White House.

Removal of rules from previous administrations: 15

These are what makes the most headlines and aren’t actual laws being changed so much as rules for how branches of the government will act within their mandate. These “laws” do nothing new. They just role back the efforts of those that came before.

Appointments: 5

Self explanatory. These are “laws” to appoint people to various positions including getting a waver about having a retired military person running the Dept. of Defense.

Memorials/Naming Buildings: 5

Naming a federal building or setting up a memorial takes an act of Congress. Nice way to pad a stat.

Government Management: 8

This is the category that deals with mainly how the government spends its money or handles paperwork. It includes passing a continuing resolution on the budget which was needed to prevent another government shutdown. But this group also includes a bill that makes it OK for government workers to comp their travel costs when using Uber.

Encouragement: 4

These are bills that sound good but have little muscle behind them. Things like saying the US would like to have a World Expo or asking NASA to come up with a plan to inspire women to go into STEM careers. Sounds nice yes, but does very little in real terms.

Actual Laws: 2

After all of that there are only two laws passed that have any real substance to them. Expanding weather prediction capabilities and giving more money to NASA. More science money was definitely one of Trump’s major campaign promises, right?

So when you hear Trump try and convince you he’s moving the country forward, nearly half of what he’s accomplished is the exact opposite.

The rest is fluff.

But I guess yay for science?

Leaving on a Campaign

I snuck out before my friends woke up. My training for the campaign had just finished and I was about to leave from Raleigh to Charlotte, North Carolina. Standing on my friend’s porch I paused to take a picture of my car in the early morning sunlight.

The car was not as impressive as the moment would suggest. A Nissan hatchback of some sort. What more could you expect from a rental? I had only been back in the country for around five months. This would be my first proper job since leaving Japan so a car of my own wasn’t something I could manage.

Of course, renting a car for two and a half months isn’t exactly cheap but I’m fortunate to have a patron.

I woke up early because it’s a long drive from the capital to the Queen city. I never appreciated how vast my home state truly was until this experience. I drove a lot in Charlotte, which has some of the craziest roads in the state. Five lane highways suddenly split off into three and two. You might be forgiven for not noticing the change because one of those lanes was inevitably an on ramp as well.

Worst drivers too, probably.

I was fortunate during my time on the campaign to see a large part of the city. We also got to have a field trip into the surrounding areas closer to the end, but that’s a story for another day. All told, I put in about 3000 miles over two months. Not bad considering I spent most of my days in an old accounting office glued to a phone.

I don’t remember what I listened to on the long stretch of I-40 between my college home and my new temporary life in Charlotte. Either the Hamilton cast recording, which I had been listening to non-stop in those days, or the audiobook version of Team of Rivals, the classic Lincoln biography. I have a bit of a thing for early American history.

You’re required to be a bit of a nerd if you want to work in politics, I think.

Interstate 40 is an interesting animal. It has long been a part of my life as it was the best way to get from my home town to where I went to school. For the first 24 years of my life I never moved more than 30 minutes away from that stretch of concrete. During that whole time, it’s been under perpetual construction. People from the area know what I’m talking about.

Some of my co-workers were shocked to hear I had never been to Charlotte either in that time. I moved half a world away only to wind up just off that highway once again.

Eventually, I reached Charlotte and made my way to my first voter registration drive. Straight off the highway right to work. I should have expected no less. The drive was at a Revolutionary War re-enactment of all places. This being North Carolina, my first guess would be Civil War as the re-enactors conflict of choice. I couldn’t go in and check it out, though. For one I was on duty. For another they required tickets.

This was when I first met some of the people that would become my fellow organizers. A special bond. People who would go from strangers to dear friends over a span of mere weeks. I knew I was in good company when one of them wore a shirt with a British flag on it to a Revolutionary War event. Cheeky to say the least.

That evening I got my first taste of call time. We did calls during training but there’s no substitute for the real thing. For some reason, I remember the lights being dimmer than they would be for the rest of the campaign. Perhaps my brain wants to remember that time more intimately. Maybe it was because a light was burnt out.

Either are equally possible.

I’m Almost 35 and I Still Don’t Know What I Want to be When I Grow Up

It’s not easy to admit to yourself that you’re hopeless. No, not hopeless, maybe. Adrift. Wracked with doubt. Rudderless. Unsure. Standard Millennial malaise. Bored. Lost.

Over-reacting?

Back when I was a carefree child I wanted to be a paleontologist. Because of all the simple ideas a kid can latch on to, I chose dinosaurs. Plus, getting paid to dig holes in the ground sounded like a sweet gig. Like many people those interests went away when something else came along.

For me it was Nintendo. You whippersnappers just getting out of college had a similar reaction to, I don’t know, iPhones probably.

I’ve gone through a lot of what you might call career options or at least, career attempts. I couldn’t stick to a single one. Was it because I’m lazy? Perhaps. I also don’t have much patience for gratification. Instant or nothing baby!

I’m worried it might be because I came in on the tail end of the lead gasoline craze. Count your blessings Gen Y. The economy might be dead by the time you enter it and the world might boil all the ice away, but at least there isn’t stupidity gas in the air anymore. Stupid poisoned environment. I’m glad we fixed all of that.

Where was I?

Right. Crippling depression brought on by a complete lack of fulfillment. People talk about how there are lots of famous people that didn’t hit their mark until later in their lives. I’m sure if you look hard enough there’s a snazzy infographic out there to back me up. It’s all a big case of confirmation bias though.

You’re going to find examples of great successes who were older if you look hard enough, that’s just basic logic. For every one of those geezers like me but successful you find, however, there’s bound to be a thousand or a million other chumps who amounted to nothing.

Like me.

Man, this is getting dark. Let me try and lighten the mood up a little bit.

A few days after I quit drinking I saw a guy fall down some stairs and split his head open. Blood everywhere. Sounded like a cantaloupe in a pillowcase.

Shit. I’m making this worse.

That moment helped clarify my decision to jump on the wagon. Because it easily could have been me stumbling down a staircase like a sack of wet noodles. Honestly, it’s a miracle I made it through my late twenties without falling in front of a train. I can’t even count the number of times I made it home completely blacked out.

There’s a time and a place for everything though and it’s called Roppongi.

How does this relate to finding a rewarding career? It doesn’t. It just serves to remind me that for a long time I couldn’t picture being in my thirties. I didn’t plan ahead much beyond the next time I would get drunk. Which was all the time. Not a great way to live a life but it keeps things simple. One decision tree.

Are you drunk? Yes? Get drunker. No? Do you have to work? No? Get drunk.

Fun times.

Nowadays I’ve stuck my foot into political work like one sticks their foot in a puddle the depth of which they vastly underestimated. This was a great idea right up to November 8th, 2016. Come November 9th I was wishing I’d stayed in Tokyo and maybe taken a header down some steps instead. Yeah, I said it. The 45th President is worse than violent head trauma.

That’s insensitive of me. No one chooses to crack their skull open. Some 60 million people woke up on a Tuesday and said to themselves, “Yeah. This will be a good idea.”

If you can explain that to me I’d love to hear it.

You might be wondering if the guy on the stairs was all right. I have no fucking clue. I had a train to catch and I wasn’t about to miss it. I wasn’t going to wait for the last train because that shit always ran late. It would have taken me at least an extra hour to get home. Plus, it’s always super crowded with drunks.

The world is a cold place.

Metaphorically speaking. Scientifically speaking it’s getting hot as shit.

Why does the Right Hate Liberals?

I lived in Japan for nine years. I bring this up because as a foreigner there, I often got the sense that the government saw me as a mild inconvenience. It might have been the frustration apparent on an official’s face when my Japanese wasn’t good enough to navigate complex tax procedures. Despite his English not being good enough to navigate Cat in the Hat.

Languages are hard ya’ll.

I lived there though, it was on me to learn how to speak good. Fair enough. It might also have been the difficulty in getting a visa for longer than I had proof of employment. One year contract? One year visa. Since you can only get a visa with a guaranteed income that made it difficult to change jobs. Unless you’re the type that works better under time pressure.

You could argue the government is just looking out for the gaijin. You wouldn’t want to be stuck in a place without a support system. It certainly lit a fire under my ass to keep steady employment whenever the visa date came around.

It might also have been knowing I had things pretty easy in terms of being a foreigner, given that I was white. And a dude. And American. That mix often adds up to banker after all.

All foreigners are required to carry ID and have to show it to police whenever asked. I was carded exactly once during my nine years in Japan. It was because I was drunk and belligerent on a public street at 8am on a Monday. I might have been yelling obscenities in front of children. I can’t remember for sure because I was drunk and belligerent.

My friend, who is also an American dude, was carded once for standing outside of my apartment late at night having a quiet phone conversation. Pretty much the exact opposite of my experience. He got carded at least once every other week, so he was used to it.

Did I mention he is of Filipino descent?

I’m not trying to make this about racism in Japan or even in America. I’m not qualified to talk about it because of my white privilege. As South Park tried to impart years ago, I don’t get it. Because I can’t. I get that I don’t get it. Get it?

But it’s hard not to see it going on.

I had it better there and I have it better here. None of this is news and I’m not expecting to open anyone’s eyes that have kept them shut until now. What worries this particular white male is the other hatred that has been stewing for a while now. Because it affects me! Me by golly! And isn’t that the point? Yes, as I will explain later.

In the wake of Trump pulling out of the Paris Agreement, many on the right said it was a great move because it “made liberals cry.” What the fuck is this? Kindergarten?

How is it that the force in charge of America makes decisions based on how much pain they cause to the other side? Is it due in part to the fact that a large number of people who identify as liberal are also minorities? It’s no longer acceptable to say racist things in public. Twitter jumps all over that shit now. Racism is going to racist so what’s the alternative?

Jeff Sessions is working diligently as Attorney General to set back civil rights by decades. And he’s like, Kunta Kinte next to the Cheater in Chief.

Elections and marriages, a double threat!

Hatred of an ideology is becoming as baseless and rooted in ignorance as the hatred of skin tone. Obviously, the history and results between the two are incomparable. I’m not trying to claim the same type of suffering by being a liberal. There are plenty of “Bernie or Bust” types out there who’ll do it for me. #shotsfired

Yet, for perhaps the first time, straight white people in America are learning what it’s like to be hated by their government. Black people have put up with it for as long as they’ve been here. Latinos certainly understand the threat of an adversarial government. Every person of color in this country is forced to come to grips at an early age that the people in charge don’t like you.

I got a small taste of that in Japan. Racism Light, fewer problems, less filling. But even then, my white hetero-maleness shielded me from the worst of it all. A super power that doesn’t make for a good comic book perhaps but I was comfortable taking advantage of it.

I came back and stumbled head first into the frontlines of this fight. Racism Classic, now with more power. Thousands and millions of us tried to stop it. Or rather, shove it under the rug for another cycle. It didn’t work for a hundred reasons that didn’t involve someone named Clinton.

Most of my volunteers on the campaign were black women, which should surprise no one. They knew what was going on. They also knew the election wouldn’t wave a magic wand and fix the problems in their community.

They still came out though. And that was before all the horrors Trump has unleashed in his short tenure as President. Obviously though, we all saw it coming. Us stupid libruls. We tried to warn you that hate was growing. It threatens all of us. That’s why things feel so scary.

It’s equality of hate. Because now it doesn’t matter what you look like. If you believe certain things, a way of thought that you chose, now you are a target for the worst ills of humanity.

But what do I know? I’m just a Liberal.

Shared Humor is Cathartic: #covfefe

In case you’re not the type of politico who checks Twitter constantly, you might not know what covfefe means. Then again, it’s already seeped a bit into the general consciousness. The true meaning will be discussed for ages to come, I’m sure. The actual creation of this new vocabulary it thanks to the Tweep in Chief, Donald Trump.

I came late to the covfefe party, I only checked into Twitter about an hour after Mr. 45 tweeted a partially formed thought. The tweet itself is now gone from Twitter. Once again, Trump goes with the deletion of Presidential records because it embarrasses him. This is on paper, from what I understand, a crime. But whatever, get to the lolz.

Late on Tuesday, the President of the United States tweeted “Despite the negative press covfefe”. Now, as I write this the White House is trying to spin this as something more than a simple typo and a mistakenly sent tweet. They even tried to claim there’s some secret meaning that only super smart Trump types understand.

Which is complete bullshit. Not a chance. It’s more embarrassing to pretend otherwise.

Anyway, as the internet often does, it latched on to this mistake by the most powerful man-child in the world and mocked it without mercy. Trump deserves every single mocking tweet and late night joke. Here’s why.

He is causing severe emotional torment for a large number of Americans. I’ve disagreed with a lot of politicians before. I disagreed highly with George W. Bush. Until this year, I was confident Bush Jr. would go down in history as the worst President the USA has ever had. No longer, not a chance. Trump wins by a mile.

Now, I understand that a lot of people will disagree with me. Some people think he’s doing a great job. Some people don’t care as long as it doesn’t bother them. There are even some people who think Hillary Clinton would have been worse. Whatever. That’s all fine and good.

The problem is Trump is so blatant about not caring what people who disagree with him think. He is convinced 100% that every idea he has is perfect because he thought of it. A lot of people agree with him because on the surface he appears to think like they do. These are the same people that railed against Obama as an imperial President.

The difference is Obama actually tried to work with the other side and was constantly slapped away. He didn’t say and do things that embarrassed the nation as a whole. People say Obama ruined our reputation abroad which is the complete opposite of what happened. He repaired what was damaged by the last bumbling fool to occupy the Oval Office.

Trump is the bull in the china shop of all our nightmares. Can you blame us for latching on to the one purely innocent example of comedy this man has produced? We try to joke about his awful relationship with NATO but it represents the worst our relations with Europe have been since WWII. The Russia investigation kicks over new rocks every day. He threatens the entire world because he thinks the US shouldn’t have to take any responsibility whatsoever.

We are tired of constantly being stressed out by the assault on our values this man represents. That sounds ironic I know because it’s highly reminiscent of the Tea Party rhetoric. Obama in their eyes wanted to tear down their most fundamental beliefs. The problem is, he really wasn’t trying to do anything of the sort.

Trump is actively trying to tear down what I believe is good about this country. Then he has the gall to look us all in the eye and tell us it’s not happening. Or if it is it won’t be that bad. Or if it is that bad, then it’s not a big deal. If it is a big deal then it’s not his fault. Or if it is his fault then we deserved it.

Having to constantly fight against that coming from the highest reaches of power is exhausting.

Please excuse us for taking a small break to make fun of an old man who has trouble handling technology. Of course, when I put it like that it sounds mean doesn’t it?

But this is Trump we’re talking about. He’s beyond sympathy.

Fighting the Entropy of Apathy

I took a few days off from my blog this week. I know I’ve only been at this for about two months. Plus, the “job requirements” I’ve set myself are pretty lax.

Three articles a week? Cake walk.

All of my other personal tasks are equally simple to achieve. Still, it’s always nice to feel like I am accomplishing things. Even if I’ve rigged the expectations. It’s easy to succeed when the bar is reading book instead of watching Netflix.

I shout them out all the dang time so it should be obvious that Netflix played a big role in my mini-vacation. Caught up a bit on House of Cards. It’s nice to imagine what having a competent sociopath in the Oval Office is like rather than an incompetent one.

Call it escapism.

I also worked on my fourth or fifth complete viewing of Parks and Recreation. Love that show.

The point is that I didn’t really “do” a lot over these past few days. I think I’ve made it obvious that I don’t exactly do much on a normal day. I can stretch what should be a few hours of accomplishment in to a whole day effort. I can also waste the day away without so much as a twinge of regret. Is this some kind of laziness superpower?

Are most people like this at heart? In Japan, it’s elevated to an art form. I learned from the best.

Don’t get me wrong. I can work when needed. I put in 80 hour weeks during the 2016 elections. I got up at 5am so I could drive an hour away through a hurricane in order to be in front of a Dollar Store an hour before it opened. Why? Because I was told it would help win the election. So, I did it. I’ve got no doubts about my capability to do work.

The motivation aspect is what I’m worried about.

Would getting up at 5am each day help me become a successful writer? Maybe. Is that even what I want to be? More importantly, is it right to require such effort in the first place? I think if I was pulling a steady paycheck and my boss told me to get up at 5am to write blog articles until the sun went down I could do it. Would it be worth it?

Probably not. So, why should I bother?

Too many rhetorical questions I know. I hope this is a common line of thinking for most people. It would make me feel better if it was. Why do I get up every day and do what I do? Why can’t I just crash on the couch and watch Netflix? I suppose this is the Republican nightmare of welfare. Give people enough money and they won’t do anything.

Then civilization collapses and anarchy reigns.

Obviously, if everyone just watched Netflix there would be nothing to watch in the first place. Until computers can do everything for us at all times perfectly. Which might not be that far off. For now, it’s up to each person to decide what is important to them. What is it that gets you out of bed in the morning?

Is it just to kill time until the next day comes so you can repeat the process? I’ll admit that has been the case for me more times than I’m comfortable with. That’s how I felt for a long time when I was living in Japan. For me, perhaps the best way to quit laziness is the same way I stopped drinking and smoking.

Cold turkey.

Something tells me it’ll be harder than either of those previous vices.