If money were out of the equation, would you still work? If yes, why, and how much? If not, what would you do with your free time?
Another bright idea for a daily prompt from the men in WordPress t-shirts. We work, or in my case, worked, just for the fun of it. Money no object, we slaved away doing what the others told us to do because we wanted to, or did we? I do not have a lot of time today as my hairdresser will be waiting for me to reshape my hair. I will tell her to keep the colour, grey is my trade mark: they probably would no longer employ anyone with that colour hair, the risk would be too high for paying out benefits if you had a weakness at the desk and fell off the chair.
My working days are over, gone, at least six years. Do I miss them? No I do not. I can now go to the hairdresser this afternoon without fitting it in the last hours of the working day, or a Saturday morning. I never really bothered to go to the hairdresser when I was a working woman, I did not have the time, and did most of it myself, or just let it grow. If the washing machine was broken and the man came to repair it, it was either me or Mr. Swiss that had to take the hours off work to stay at home until he came. He was also a working man and did his job during the day and not in the evening when we were at home.
Sorry, but I find this a silly question. Of course I worked for the money, but if you liked the job then it helped. I had kids at home to feed, clothe and support with their schooling. Mr. Swiss had a job, but two wages are two wages and the life of the lady of leisure was not a choice. However, times change the tempo changes and your age changes. You might be sitting at your desk for thirty years, but you have to make room for the youngsters: the dynamic youth that can do everything better and faster and stay healthy. They love work, they are convinced they are privileged and the golden oldies (which are not really so golden or old) are classified as the ones you have to put up with until they go. Yes, the bosses love the youngsters, to the extent that they are offered a quick promotion, patted on the head and you find that you are taking your orders from someone that is old enough to be your daughter, although your brain is still working. To add insult to injury you find yourself annually sitting at a desk with the bright young thing, that learnt everything from a text book and not experience, to be assessed on the quality of your work. If you happen to talk during this assessment you are politely told to be quiet “I am talking now”. Not the exact the words, but the meaning behind the words.
If money were out of the equation is a utopic question. Money is always in the equation, a job that you do for the love of work would be nice. Today no-one is sure of anything. Years ago the working man or woman knew that she had a job for life. Today you can be lucky if you have the job for a couple of years. Just as long as the company decides you are active and healthy enough to do the work. No-one can use a passenger in the office.
I am now retired, so I do what I want to do and that is the essence of free time. You do not have a boss to push you around or put a kid in front of your nose to give the orders because she can take the stress. One day she will have enough of stress probably, but then you are no longer around to experience her collapse.
Looking back on it all, I wish I had become an undertaker. There is no stress, everyone goes at one time or the other and needs someone to give you a neat and tidy take-off: a dream job really and no problem with being pushed out of the job through age. Money no problem, turnover is made constantly. Dying is an expensive occupation as those left behind will know. Undertaking is a life’s job. I have never met an undertaker that is out of work, unemployed and everyone knows you. I could tell you the name of the firm that will do the necessary when my days are done. He is a personality in the village or town.
On this happy-go-lucky note I will now leave you. The hairdresser is waiting and when I return home Mr. Swiss will have prepared the evening meal. He also has nothing better to do since being retired. At the moment he is relaxing in a horizontal positon on the sunbed reading (on the iPad – we might be golden oldies, but we are online).