[Got an anonymous confession or rant you just have to share with the world? Submit it to I, Anonymous HERE!—eds]
I went through a lot of shit and worked some really shitty jobs so I can one day work a mediocre menial labor position and possibly work off a degree by my mid to late forties. Fucking earned the right to neglect my wife, my kids, my cats, and myself so we can sometimes get a slightly better hotel room on vacations.
I didn’t used to have vacations though. Or the wife and kids. I had cats back then too, but I sort of lost them when I was homeless for a bit.
I’m very fortunate to have made it as far as I have. It hardly compares to someone with real success or real challenges.
This constant need to work more and fill all of my time with productivity is draining any meaning out of any of the things I was taught to work for.—Anonymous