Three jobs?
Oh, come now, WP, at this stage of life, the very last thing I want is a job! Why would I go back to the grind? I’ve spent years dancing to alarm clocks, being herded by bosses, and ticking boxes on forms nobody even reads. Not for love, not for money, and certainly not for some dusty “Employee of the Month” plaque. I’ve seen the rat race up close, and I’ve no intention of getting back on the wheel.
If money truly didn’t matter, I wouldn’t waste another second with job titles and corporate ladders. I’d torch the ladder, toss the briefcase on the bonfire, and head off into the wild where my biggest concern is whether the rain will catch me before the washing dries. That’s real life. Not this endless shuffle of targets, metrics, and meetings that could’ve been emails.
Let’s compare, shall we?
- In the system: Vice President of Buzzword Compliance – fluent in jargon, allergic to meaning.
- Out of the system: Chief Berry Picker – fluent in sunshine, allergic to stress.
- In the system: Manager of Pointless Meetings – masters the art of sitting for three hours while saying absolutely nothing.
- Out of the system: Director of Turf Logistics – masters the art of stacking, and keeping the home fire burning.
- In the system: Head of Soul-Sucking Paperwork – praised for shuffling forms until your eyes glaze over.
- Out of the system: Head of Wildlife Relations – praised for negotiating peace treaties with crows, hedgehogs, and the occasional nosy fox.
See the difference? One sucks the life out of you, the other gives it back.
So, if you insist I list three jobs, here they are:
- Freedom-Seeker – no boss, no clock, no uniform. Just me, the open sky, and time to breathe.
- Off-Grid Dreamer – responsibilities include growing food, listening to the seasons, and occasionally cursing at slugs.
- Professional Rat-Race Escapist – benefits: peace of mind, sunsets, muddy boots, and the thrill of knowing Monday morning no longer owns me.
That’s the dream career, right there. Pay me in freedom, in the glow of a good fire, in nights under a sky so full of stars it makes you forget the world’s madness. Keep your promotions and your pensions, I’ll take peace over prestige any day.
And if anyone asks for my CV? I’ll hand them a jar of blackberry jam and a grin that says: “I’ve finally figured it out.”
Mae 🧡
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