Hating What You Do

Hating your job is the antithesis of carpe diem.  Rather than embracing the precious few moments you have in life, you consciously decide to dedicate your one and only existence to working on that which you do not believe.  It’s perhaps the most dangerous and self-destroying habit you can have.  It’s even worse than drug addiction or alcoholism.  An addict at least tries to get the most out of life – it’s just that their method is usually wanting.  Those who hate their jobs know that what they want out of life and what they do every day are in direct contrast.  But they do it anyway.

It’s taking the most precious gift you will ever receive, pissing on it, lighting it on fire, and throwing it out the window. 

I’m not talking about menial labor or less-than-ideal employment.  Everyone would rather be a rock star than a janitor, but there is no shame in doing difficult or unpleasant tasks. I’ve had jobs ranging from Taco Bell to basic labor and janitorial work.  Someone’s gotta take out the trash – and sometimes that someone was me.  Dirty work never made me feel bad about myself.

But being a lawyer certainly did.

A few months ago, I quit my job as a lawyer.  I had hated it for years, but I kept doing it anyway, because the economy sucked, and I was being paid what was, by my standards, a good amount of money. I was a small cog in a large wheel, representing the largest companies on the planet in their attempts to avoid liability for whatever misdeeds or mistakes they may have made in the past. 

I don’t want to overstate how nefarious the law firm I worked for was.  My old law firm probably had more in common with General Electric than with the dastardly law firms you see in movies or TV.  Most of the crap we did was dull and stultifying, performed for the highest bidder.  But it was rarely evil -- just soul-destroyingly boring, and entirely unfulfilling.

But the entire time I was there, I wasn’t doing anyone favors but myself. And by the time I left, even that wasn’t true.