Ever had the feeling....

you were looking for something in completely the wrong place?

I was lying in bed last night (trying to get to bed early and get up early, to keep myself on a schedule--yeah, not really working at the moment. I suspect it would work better if I set my alarm) when I realized that I've been going at life all backasswards. I mean, I've been trying to find my place in the working world. I know I don't belong in the business world, but I keep trying to define myself by what I do. Why? What sort of insanity is this?

This whole defining yourself by your job title thing is so ingrained to Anglo culture, though. I mean, for the love of God, how many people do you know with the names of Smith, Cooper, Tanner, Walker (which is a job--a walker is a felter, they made felt by putting the wool in their boots and walking on it, hah) or Baker? Cook, Knight or King? In the English speaking world, apparently, it's been centuries that we've been defining ourselves by our work. But no one ever tells you what to do when you don't know what work you'd like to have, or what to do when (horrors!) the work you'd like isn't really work at all.

I suppose it makes sense, then, that my last name (which you aren't getting, sorry) translates broadly from its original language as "intellectual". I'm really good for very little other than sitting on my ass and thinking my way into trouble, so I suppose it's an inherited thing.

Not that I want to be an intellectual. I can't think of any worse fate, actually, than forever being trapped in school. *shudder* It really is too bad that subsistence farming is no longer in vogue....