What am I doing?

We spend the first eighteen years of our lives preparing for it. Some us spend another four (or more) years in college to be extra prepared. We want to get that extra education so we can get that prestigious job that comes with extra digits to the left of the decimal point. Why? Because that's what we've been working towards since day one. Why? Because that's what we know and what we do. Why? Because that's what everyone does. Why? Well...just because. Sounds like a back and forth with a frustrated parent and a three year old, doesn't it?

I have to ask myself again. What am I doing? I'm doing exactly what my parents did and exactly what is expected of me. I'm getting out of bed Monday morning while it is still dark outside. I shower, shave my face, put on khaki pants and a polo shirt and plod downstairs for my bowl of cereal and coffee. I run out the door in a hurry so I can fight highway traffic to get downtown to the office on time. I sit in front of my computer and plod away for my daily eight hours (which is really more like ten or eleven once you add in commute and lunch). I grab my coffee cup and my sunglasses and I run out the door to fight more traffic on the way home. Once home I say hello to my kids (who are getting right along following in my footsteps) and start the process of keeping my home liveable. There's grass to be mowed, laundry to be washed, dinner to be cooked, kids to be bathed, a house to be cleaned and bills to be paid. Before I know it I'm six hours out from starting another day. A virtual facsimile of the day I just completed. My weekend, Saturday and Sunday, is filled with attempts at making up for the things my work week doesn't allow me time to complete. I spend a bit of time with the family so they don't feel neglected though they are too busy with school, jobs, sports, dance, chores and in the case of my one year old son pooping his pants, to feel overly concerned about the lack of quality time we spend together.

Sunday night as I lie in bed staring at the ceiling waiting to do it all over again I find myself asking...what am I doing? It seems I've already answered that question. Maybe a more appropriate question is why am I doing it? I don't ask why are we (the human race) here. I just want to know why I do what I do day in and day out, week in and week out. I want to know why I will be doing this until I'm too old to enjoy what's left of my life. I want to know why our government (for the people and by the people?) expects this of me. I want to know why society expects this of me. Why would I be thought ill of if I didn't get up and go to work every day? Why would I be an outcast if I shunned the status quo in search of a better quality of life by doing something different (less time working in a dark, windowless office building, more time with my family, more time exploring and enjoying the things the world has to offer, more time living and less time doing whatever you want to call what I'm doing now)?

I have become more and more opposed to this "normal" life. Surely, obtaining the basic essentials of life and happiness shouldn't require an investment of more than seventy percent of my waking hours each week spent sitting in a cube in an office building. On top of that I'm expected to invest that seventy percent until I'm sixty seven years old (according to the laws of Social Security). None of us can know how long we will live. I can guess, based on my grandparents and parents medical past, that I will live to be somewhere between seventy five and eighty before it is time for me to take the long sleep. That's if everything goes just right. So, if I started school at age four (pre-school) and retired at age sixty seven then I have spent sixty three of my (possibly) available eighty years working towards the goal of retiring so I can finally sit back and enjoy the fruits of my labors. Well, that's if I planned properly for retirement and set aside funds enough to live on once my monthly income goes away. That's also if I am in good health for a sixty seven year old married father of two who will, no doubt, have children of their own by this point. Maybe now the wife and I can finally make that long anticipated trip to Ireland or Italy to see the world we've been talking about. Maybe now we can finally sit down and have a chat and not worry about being out of bed at 5:15am for that thirty minute commute to the office. Maybe now we can start living!! At sixty seven?

So, what is the point of it all? Is it being a good citizen providing precious tax dollars so the government can misappropriate, misuse, steal and generally waste the dollars I provide them for the betterment of our nation and people? Is it trying to give my children advantages I never had so maybe, just maybe, they can escape the rat race and get on to living life before they are too old to do just that? Is it just a case of running as fast, long and hard as I can on this treadmill until I either collapse or someone pulls the plug so I can fade quietly into the past? What is the point of it all?

I'll tell you this much. I can no longer live my life like this. I can no longer watch each day pass just waiting for the inevitable. I can no longer subscribe to a mentality that robs the lion's share of us of living our lives instead of just watching them pass us by. I can no longer keep up this charade. Others have strayed from the herd and lived fantastic lives full of rich experiences that have never included a cubical farm. Why can't I?

As I lie here staring at the ceiling dreading the sound of my alarm, knowing it is only six hours away I just have to ask myself...why can't I?