It’s post-ZoukOut, on Monday. I’m sure all the half-hungover corporate-slave friends I have out there want to kill me for saying this right now but… I’ve come to the realization that it’s harder to NOT work, than actually working. Let me explain:
When you work, you have money. You wake up and go to work everyday (though you probably don’t want to), and you have routine and discipline. You have a support system of co-workers to interact with everyday (whether you like them or not), and you might meet your friends after work for dinner. You catch up with your family about what you did, and bitch about your bosses and theirs. At least, you have progress to talk about.
At the end of the day, you are tired, but you have purpose. (And money.)
Friends tell me that they admire my courage coming out of the corporate world to try and start my own thing. They tell me that they want to be like me. It sounds like the perfect plan – starting your own elusive business and joining the ranks of the New Rich (read Tim Ferriss’ blog for more context on the concept of New Rich).
Everyone wants to hear your success story, but no one really reads about or understands the failures that you go through first.
The reality is that I’m almost reaching the 6-month mark where I have been officially jobless, although most of it was spent exploring and working on some business ideas. In the interim, I’ve done lots of sleeping, reading, learning, meeting people, and gained more knowledge and advice than I could have ever hoped for. Sure, it’s an exciting chapter in my life. But friends and family question me, and at the end of this 6 months so far, what do I have to show for?
At least, there has been a bit of progress lately and things have just started moving forward. However, I’m frankly very disappointed in myself that it’s taken this long for things to get moving. I should have done what I’m doing now, in the beginning.
I sit at home most of the time stuck in my own head, only occasionally interrupted when my Granddad asks for help or when I hear my neighbours quarrelling about this and that. I feel like I’m lost in my own world, and no one understands.
I have all the time in the world now, but what am I doing with myself?
Dear God, are you there? Where are you?