It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
I was supposed to be a fucking author with a few decent books under my belt. And writing for some heavy duty publications. Maybe nursing a decent drinking problem and knocking back drugs: hallucinogens, weed, possibly a drop or two of speed.
Yes, I wanted to be Hunter S. Thompson. Reading his works as a college puke inspired me to want to write and be a journalist.
Great fucking plan, Fozz.
This path was wrought with plenty of failure and feelings of doom. My friends with business and computer science degrees were making big time money. I was not. And continued on this path. Fucking bullshit.
To be honest I lost more than a few jobs because of a shit attitude and the fact that my DNA prevents me from going along to get along. Looking back, I was a complete asshole, stomping on toes and never admitting that I was wrong.
So where am I now Career wise, not in a bad place. I do feel the tang of bitterness when I watch younger kids take on projects I could do in my sleep. Also, they tend to wear knit hats indoors, and I want to saw their fucking heads off with a shank. I will NEVER understand that. They won’t either. And that makes them dumber.
You all know I have kids and a wife and they are the center of my life. That’s a great thing because they are healthy and happy and amaze me every day I am alive. Losing them would kill me.
But, what about ME? Well, I’m medicated for anxiety and depression. I see a counselor a few times every month. She is amazing and has kept me relatively sane. There are days when I realize that I’m a white, middle class suburban dude who drives his kids to sports; frets about money; and looks forward to getting hammered – but the hangovers are not worth the trouble.
What’s the answer? Unleashing hate on various groups of people has helped. Sure, there are the go’to’s, Trump, Millenials, politicans, assholes who are driving Baltimore into the ground.
But I need more – not more to hate, that’s no problem. I’m looking to get into different hobbies: mountain biking, building models, witchcraft. So maybe that’s the answer – something to justify the fact that I have more to life. I’ll give it a shot.
I still will hate. Plenty of targets there.
(Note: I built models as a child and fucking was horrible at it. More than a few were smashed into the walls before being completed. It worried my parents. Still does.)
I’m worried that in the last year I started spending time away from work thinking about work. I’ve even had dreams about work. I’m ready to get to the retired part of old, even with a good job this blows.
I also just sent in a newfangled thing that tests your biological age, so it’ll be interesting to see how much the healthy stuff I do offsets all the other shit at a cellular replication level
Firstly – as a hobby – while model kits are awesome as long as no painting is involved (I’ve got *literally* 200+ with less than a half dozen painted, ’cause I care more about the feat that is to make a 60 000 chunk of steel do 30knots with basically WW1 tech than its aesthethics), I’d really suggest that you look into DIY electronics projects. The price of entry isn’t high (you can have at quite a bit of fun with less than $20 with Arduino Nano or a Pi Zero W), the community is usually quite helpful and relaxed and your only real limit is your imagination -> same basic platforms ( Pi and Arduino) literally allow you to do anything from a blinking LED to a lawn sprinkler controller to a bloody sattelite. Though as an initial project, I’d suggest building your own retro-arcade cabinet.
As for getting older. Yeah, life’s full with adversity and unfair starting positions for the younger generations ( which is especially horrible in IT), but from your own words it seems that you found the most important piece of the puzzle -> having someone to grow old with. Everything else is fixable 😀 As for hate, on one hand … I guess it kinda helps, but only if you use it as a driving force to push yourself harder and go faster and further than the assholes around you. Hell, imho nothing (petty) feels better than to see some of the cunts that laughed at you for having to work AND study (and not go stupid parties nightly) still be stuck on some dead-end entry level job (because the same parties meant that you had years of extra work experience on them), debt-free and driving a fucking R8. But if you hate just to feel better, then I really don’t see the point, ’cause you gain nothing from it except gradually becoming bitter or resentful …
TL;DR version: Constructive hate is cool and a useful motivator, but it’s a shitty way to try and blame someone else for your own life
All I wanted as a kid was to do adult crap: avoid school, get a job, drink, drive, have my own place—and, when the hormones took over, screw. Shit, I even enjoyed getting the odd “Señor” when I was in my 30s. Youth has exuberance and vigor, but ignorance and me me MEEE shit can get fucked.
I take comfort in my hate. I only worry on the days mundane idiocy fails to work me into a lather. It’s when the apathy wins that I worry. When I stop caring enough to stop being angry are my darkest days.
I hear ya, Fozz. I almost transferred from engineering school to journalism, because I always wanted to be a sportswriter. But I never could have navigated that cutthroat path, I take rejection WAY too personally and am an extreme introvert. Plus, Jeebus, the moneys involved.
I feel marginalized enough in the law firm environment. Too bad I wasn’t SMRT enough to actually be a practicing engineer. JUST ASK MOOSE OK??
Probably not Fozz.
(as far as you know)
“Agreeableness” is a term I’ve only recently come across. I have to try remember it in social/networking situations, and not default to my smart-ass nature.
Sounds downright silly to bring it up here, but Ben Franklin mentions he had the same problem in his autobiography. So there’s your aspirational peer.
He makes a compelling point.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1M4FG8R-kdw
There would be fewer fumbles if football players all had fat pockets like otters do.
https://www.facebook.com/watch/?v=666056124201274
I just ate a rotisserie chicken and rolls and am on beer #4. But I also bought two great books (Invisible Cities, To The Hermitage) and got chores done. Now I’m watching Blade Runner: Final Cut. So fuck all y’all.
I read Invisible Cities by accident in my mid 20’s. It was such an amazing experience for me. I doubt very much that it will impact you the same way but please read.
It was a pretty stark impression when I first read it.
I had a similar reaction while reading To The Hermitage in Spain, though. So maybe? I also thought it was hilarious, and so reading comment reviews has been interesting.
Or if they had cheek storage pouches like hamsters or chipmunks. That would keep them from coughing up the ball, although it would look like they were scampering down the field with a large goiter.
At least you have a wife and kids. I’m just now starting to chat with someone online. I’m 40.
I impregnated my first kid when I was 45. You’ve got plenty of time!
/Does anyone else hear sirens?
Sandusky, you are not welcome here.
“Sandusky did not impregnate any boys because that is biologically impossible. You have failed at the humor. Please reboot.”
-Jokebot 3000
Not in France
No excuses! You are handsome, hilarious, kind, sweet, and would be a pretty fine catch, especially with a splash of confidence!
My favorite part of building models as a kid was taking them out to the sandbox at the local playground and setting them on fire or blowing them up with dodgy Turkish firecrackers.
“nursing a decent drinking problem and knocking back drugs: hallucinogens, weed, possibly a drop or two of speed.”
I achieved this without writing a single paragraph as a paid writer.
I didn’t sell out, I bought in.
Says the middle class old white dude. Good thing I love my job.
I’m sure you knew that someone would post this:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JPhJo_BuVJc
The key to my happiness in life is never having any expectations that things would work out all that well.
To be Irish is to know the world will end in misery.
I find that comforting. Go on and try your best, but hey, if you fail, it was all gonna fall apart at some point, eh?
THIS all day.
” And writing for some heavy duty publications. ”
I’m pretty sure the average weight around here makes us one of the heaviest publications in the Internet!
Goal Achieved!!
I only ever owned In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida; not this album
We got the spots filled for Colts Interns?
Is the counselor hot?
– tWBS
OH COME ON!!!!!
That’s how it starts
I feel you, fozz.
Also, I relate to this column.
How’s the witchcraft going?
That really is the proper choice here.
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Sabrina’s sensible aunt can get it.
So can Sabrina. Including Netflix Sabrina.
As an owner and operator, I 100% support boring white girl ass