Pause, Ponder, Muse, and Get Back to Work

I have often found myself at this point only really in recent years. I suspect that as I have grown in experience and relative stature within my profession there has been a proportional increase in relative stress. And it manifests itself in funny ways.


At no point in the history of me, beginning triumphantly as it did on Friday October 10th at approximately 1735 hrs have I had need to pause so often and wonder whether or not what I am doing is actually what I want to do or if, in some rather esoteric way I am being trained for something else, something beyond what I am currently doing.



If we are to believe all we are told then the main philosophical thrust of life is to just keep-keep on going, breed, learn, love, live and die, all the whilst extracting maximum value for the period of history you happen to have been ejected into. I somehow feel that I have thus far done that, that even through my myriad and maverick ways I have achieved beyond what was expected of me and then some.



But what the fuck am I doing? That is a terrible question I can’t escape from. At 1113hrs on an increasingly brightening Wednesday morning, surrounded by my colleagues I am propelled back to that question. I have yet to come up with a salient answer.



I often wonder how much of my life I have taken for granted. Despite being rubbish at maths, pathetic at physics and not too shabby at chemistry I became an engineer. I don’t have a flattering academic background yet I command a higher salary that any of my peers that do.



So to pull this rambling and self indulgent chunk of text back to the question with the for effect expletive, I can’t honestly say. Perhaps my underwhelming background has ill prepared me for the challenges that such a mid level position entails. Perhaps this lack of the right stuff is over compensated for by chaining me to a large salary that has become the stick with which I self flagellate? Maybe I just like being pedantic and having big word fuelled hissy fits that give me the nugget of attention required to get me through the day?



I truth I don’t know. What the fuck am I doing? Well if I am honest I can say I am possibly having recorded histories mildest panic attack. I get to a point of emotional investment in my travails that I need to vent and ponder, vent a bit more then indulge in some literary masturbation before getting back on with it. This seems to have a seed of truth about it, but in essence I have to be totally honest and say that I don’t actually like what I do. I don’t. Now in the grand pantheon of jobs I can tolerate this one with a great degree of civility more than I can palette other jobs I’ve had, but sometimes I sit, pause, do that bent little thing I seem to do with my hands behind my head and ponder what I am doing.



Is that part of a large exercise training me for greater things? Perhaps is the answer. Philosophically am I doing the right thing? Aye, I think I am. I provide for my family, I am paying debts back at a rate of knots and I am here, at work, designing things and learning how to be a better engineer.



But what the fuck am I doing, really???? I’m doing what I do everyday when the sun breaks through the clouds of concentration: pause, ponder, muse and get back to work.