Saturdays child

Works hard for a living

i have had an amazing life
many struggles, many blessings, just lots of everything.
I consider myself lucky, but i wasn't lucky by the usual standards of luck. I never really "won" anything - like drawings, contests, stuff like that. I wasn't really "first" at anything. I watched a lot of people get "lucky breaks" but I never considered myself to be one of those. Yet, I was never really Saturday's child.

what's that saying? If you love what you do, you'll never work a day in your life. I was that person. I made choices, and when i went to college, I made them consciously, changing my "luck" perhaps, choices to do what i loved. As a result, my "work" was never really "work." So how did I relate to those around me who struggled, complained, and "worked hard for a living?" I joined the club. I pretended to struggle, I dumbed myself down, I told little lies about myself in order to fit into a world I consciously chose not to join. How warped is that I ask you?

then the fake working became more and more real, because the more thought I put into it, the denser and more crystallized the thoughts became, turning to physical "reality." So then, I had to use what I knew and reverse all the "damage" I caused in the first place. How warped is THAT?

sigh. yes. I worked hard for a living. hardly.

so who out there will join me and own up that they love what they do? that they love the choices they made, no matter how warped? that they don't have to make themselves miserable just to fit in? Especially now with all the perceived "troubles" "corruption" and general "effed up ness" of our current world, can we proudly hold the view that all is perfect even though it looks like we're going to hell in a handbasket? And even if we are, let's own it proudly, because those handbaskets are one of a kind. Designer handbaskets, everyone. Who's the designer? We are.

Was that so hard?