the hand that feeds you

Angry-dog

W-2’s are eye-opening.

It’s a time every year when we get to gauge what we trade our lives for.

It’s also maybe a time of year that we can be thankful for opportunities that we are given to keep things afloat.

We complain about work and what we’re paid and conditions, etc. like it was some sort of amusement….like there was something to be said for being in a fraternity of negativity. I’m in that fraternity…I’m the stream flowing downhill, just another finger of bile joining the other complainers on their way to who knows what…but I don’t want to be in that club.  Maybe I can have my membership revoked or something.

They say that misery loves company…but it’s a miserable existence to cut down the thing that keeps your head above water….financially, at least.

I know how big the world is.  I know that there are so many different ways to make a living…so many different ways to live in general. I think about “right livelihood” and finding a vocation that fits my skills and personality…all the things that would make employment and my life perfect. I think about all that stuff.

My job may not be perfect.  Like a lot of situations, it’s kind of sketchy right now whether things are going to be very stable again.  But…I really appreciate it.

I love being able to take care of my family.  It’s a pretty huge deal.

So, when I get my W-2 and the numbers make me wonder if all the time I spent making the “numbers on the piece of paper” was worth it…I’d have to say that it was.

Of course, I still have fantasies of the beach shack, a pair of board shorts and a couple of t-shirts, flip-flops and an old guitar….it sounds appealing when the forecast calls for freezing rain….but for right now, I can’t bite the hand that’s feeding us.

 


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