Not All Fun and Games

Recently I got an email from a former colleague who is also an avid gardener. She expressed some envy that I did not have to drag my ass into a stuffy office to endure status meetings and the other annoying distractions of having a job during this coming week - when the temperatures outside will be warm enough for outdoor work. I responded thusly:

"Hey it's not all fun and games here. My wife has been making me do things - you know - chores. Last week I painted on of the bedrooms that she uses as her studio. In the coming weeks I am expected to paint the porch, our bedroom and the North side of the house. (It is peeling so bad that I keep getting flyers stuck in the mailbox from total strangers offering painting services. Kinda insulting if you ask me...)

Last friday I spent the day in the yard burning fallen limbs from the pine trees that infest my yard and other twiggy debris. It is my annual sacrifice to the gods. I am purified by the cleansing smoke and forgiven all my sins. (Yes, I have a permit).

Lately I am getting serious interest from staffing companies looking to find me a gig. Boy, nothing like a recent successful contract to make them want you. I am interested in returning to the world of a regular paycheck and the sociability of a project team. I need some spending money for the Scotland trip in September.

I got on the train last week to go into Boston to meet with a recruiter who had spotted my resume and probably didn't realize that I was old enough to be her grandfather. My purpose was to assess the commute - to see if I would tolerate a rail commute into the city - should a promising opportunity arise. She was cute and charming, but I don't think she understood most of the stuff I was talking about. If you are 22 years old, and your first job out of college is being a headhunter, you cannot appreciate the complexities of working with diabolically designed Enterprise Applications and ancient thinkers who reject any new processes and systems.

She thinks she has the perfect gig for me at a local university. Hey, do the math: I worked at another university a few years ago. They both have PeopleSoft databases. The biggest no-brainer of Earth. Perfect match! I did not share with her my opinion that college campuses are the last refuge where people with observable mental illness are tolerated and even extolled. (After all, who am I to point fingers.)
Anyhow, I have a couple more interviews/sceens next week. I find it flattering that my wife is jealous that all the recruiters are young females, leaving voice messages for me and wondering if I would like to meet over coffee. "That doesn't sound very professional," she comments, "Don't these trollops have offices?" :-) In her heart she knows that they just want to eyeball the old geezer to make sure I don't drool or look like death-warmed-over. Her jealousy it is a game we play.

The positive thing about working these days is that I experience zero stress, because I simply do not give a shit. This has been the most liberating aspect of my life! This is not to say that I don't take the work seriously. I really try to do the best I can to earn the money that they are paying. But if the boss is a turdbrain or my coworkers are psychotic, I do not waste a minute of time fretting. I keep focused on the key question that every contractor must keep in mind at all times: "Am I getting paid for this?"

If only I could find a way to not give a shit about everything, I would be totally free."