Working life. As I stared outside the window at the brink of sunset in my sedentary position stationed beside the fluorescent screen of my computer, I realized that I was living working life. Before this entire job started, I was reluctant to trade in my lounging days where I was free to pursue whatever I wanted to pursue, with all the time in the world. If I wanted to be awake at 4 AM, I would be awake at 4 AM. If I wanted to read about economic theory, I had all the time in the world to do so. But now, time no longer belongs to me. I should rephrase that. I have the time, but I have lost the will to spend it elsewhere.

There’s nothing to come home to, nothing to anticipate or be excited about. There’s simply dwindling rotation of the weekdays and the weekends. Even if I could be doing something else, I wonder what I could be doing, and I find that I choose to spend that time doing work. There was a time where I would scoff at myself for doing this, and that time was not too long ago. There was a time where I staunchly refused to put more into a corporate entity than I must. But now, for lack of anything better to do, I suppose I have given up on such idealistic approaches. I am nothing more than part of a silent assembly line.

It’s not that I’m unhappy at my job. There’s just nothing here other than my job. Nothing to really feel rooted or passionate about, no joyous rush in the morning, nothing at all. There are people all around and all these things to do but all I can really think of is the practical drone of life and the money that fuels my mechanical motion. I find myself really missing home and not really feeling connected to anything or anyone here. But I don’t even have time or energy to really be unhappy.

It’s funny how I’ve waited so long to become employed, and then had such nagging reluctance to start my job that I delayed starting for a few months to play more soccer, and now I can’t seem to do anything else but work. In interviews, I tried to tell prospective employers what a great asset I would be. Perhaps I am not the most intelligent person out there, but I make up for that with unparalleled diligence. I tend to be so obsessed over everything that I spend ungodly time trying to outdo myself. Perhaps that is what I am resorting to now.

Even carnal pleasures must be relinquished for nirvana, but what exactly am I relinquishing, and what is this mythical nirvana? As I live each day counting the minutes of a commute, I wonder just how much more I have to do before I stop feeling so empty.