Jobs & Chunky Peanut Butter
It has reached the point where I have realized something. The opened up, the clouds aligned, the birds chirped in a symbolic way deep with meaning (as birds are known to do), and the mountains--mountained. I realized... I need to get a job. Something. Stores keep asking for money in exchange for their goods and services and staring at them confused waving my hands a lot has never worked... I need a job. I’m not declaring that like it is some radical concept. I just realized, now, I am at the point I cannot function without one. I actually need to do that thing where money... is.
I’ve been following a couple of leads on jobs the last few weeks, but I’m still not sure what I want - SUPER HELPFUL, I know, right? I have been thinking of getting one of those 9-5s. Everyone (very generic statement), MOST -- erm -- A LOT of people do 9-5s... I could erase all of that and make it nice and clean looking but on the same token -- no.
I dabbled in a bit of the 9-5 world, it was an 8:30-4:30 because, clearly, I was striving to be edgy and different, but it was same type of thing minus the salary. The money was nice, like most 9-5s. The money was “creamy.” And often times, that is why you stay, or find yourself going, “well, one more month would be so bad.” [Also I am speaking to the creative types or the misfits or newbies who are still trying to find their place in life or are still going up the ladder to their ultimate goal. If you’ve got a job now, run, be merry, be happy. All the power to you. I’m just do not understand you and therefore am afraid of you]. For me, the 9-5 was getting too easy. I was settling in to everything. I was losing focus and just becoming another nameless cog in the machine. I was forgetting who I was and what I was really trying to do with my life, which is filming... and mid-lower-mid level domination (#20Yr.Plan). I felt like I had advanced to age of 40 and was just getting up, going to work, doing work, leaving work, sleeping, & rinse, wash, and repeat. I feel, at my age, settling is bad. Creamy is nice, don’t get me wrong, but give me chunk peanut butter any day. I need some rough edges and challenges. I don’t want the same shape everyday. I want something with something that bites back some (like getting a chunk stuck in your teeth, that’s the peanut butter fighting back “You’ll rue the day!!”) I need some more chunky peanut butter in my life.
Now, those of you who are 40 and aren’t reading my blog, there is nothing wrong with being 40. You did things and said stuff to get there. You have a history behind you that amassed to 40 years. If you want to settle, you’ve probably earned it. I do not have that number of years. For many 20 -somethings these days we have almost been victimized by college. At least in my case, I had several senior year classes tailored around “YOU SHOULD GET A JOB, BUT YOU WON’T BECAUSE IT IS HARD, AND EVERYONE WANTS A JOB, AND THERE ARE MORE QUALIFIED PEOPLE THAN YOU, BUT YOU STILL STILL GET A JOB BECAUSE IF YOU DON’T YOU WILL DIE AND NO ONE WILL EVER LOVE YOU.” That creates a generation of paranoid, creamy, settling 20 year olds. Which is scary.
Honestly, we should all live like we are in our mid-20s. We should act young, explore new things, be happy, and realize we have a fuckton of years ahead of us where we can settle at the end. Do all the things you do for 89 year old you. He’s the one that would potentially like to sit down and take a breather. But, no pressure, Ernest Borgnine was making movies up until the day he died at age 95. But you can understandably slow down later down the line. Use the energy and will power you’ve got now to do untold amounts of super cool shit. The age I feel you should act like is 23-25 because by that time you’re out of college, and in the real world and you’ve been legally allowed to drink for a few years so you are no longer a tool about it.
The ideal job, other than being paid for the your dream job, is something malleable. Something exciting, potentially frustrating, different, and potentially ever changing. Something chunky. It’s not the ideal philosophy, but it has worked for me. Work the chunky job that frustrates you just enough, or makes you not want to work their just enough that your mind wanders to elsewhere. I am not saying during work. Do the best job you can do. Give your 110% to the job, but when you are there. The rest of the time vent your frustration through whatever outlet of your dream job you can find. I use film. I film sketches. I took improv/sketch classes. Do stand-up. Do something that does make you happy. Your chunky job serves as a job that gives you money and serves as a reminder that you don’t want to stay there for the rest of your life. It’s nice, but it really just serves as a way to do the cool shit you wanna do. If you can enjoy your chunky job, even better. Have fun, and especially meet people. Because there are several of us out there - SHOCKER -. Many of us are working the same jobs, but do not realize it. Talk to those people. Connect. Collab. Make dem connections because then you are helping them and they are helping you and together you are beating the system. Generate some playful banter and do cool shit together. Forming a production company is all the rage these days. Adam Sandler did it. He’s made 400 movies going “habba doobie habba doobie.” We can all go habba doobie -- I mean make movies. It just takes you to do it... yes, and equipment too, but equipment is much easier to come by or RENT these days, and the ultimate piece that makes you do it is YOU.
So, let’s all habba doobie together.
Do cool shit. Make the monies to do your cool shit. Do enough cool shit that you can make the monies by doing your cool shit.
Live young and chunky.
#Bill
