“If work were so pleasant, the rich would keep it for themselves.”
— Mark Twain
I’ve been working since I was 15 years old. I’ve given my time, energy and great portions of my life to restaurants, pizza joints, taxi companies, news companies, non-profits, and one temporarily famous strip club. I’ve worked these jobs, alone and in combination, while also going to school, raising three kids, and growing older and crankier.
The only thing I have to show for my efforts is that I didn’t die. That’s simply not enough anymore.
I’m not a lazy man. I do things, take care of my responsibilities and I get shit done. My work life has carried three kids over the legal adult finish line. But I’m done, man. With all of it.
Fcuk work.