I think there comes a point in every person’s life when they begin questioning whether their existence is so futile that society would be better off without their rubbish. Take this exact moment in time. I’m sitting at a client’s site and have been ordered to undertake a series of tests to ensure that the client’s staff members are running their operations efficiently. Sounds relatively interesting, right?

The question I pose to you is how would you like it if some tall, lanky; six foot one asshole came to your workplace and told you how to do your job? I’m guessing you would be checking the size of your heel, or whether or not your shoes had ridges to leave an imprint on his left ass cheek. This is what I have chosen as a career; this is potentially what I’ll be doing for the remainder of my lifetime: being an asshole. I’m sure, however, that most of my ex-girlfriends would probably contest that I’d be one even if I didn’t work in my field.

So I sit here in my high powered job, continue to be yelled at for mistakes that I didn’t make and do it all for a handsome fee that goes directly to my managers, while I get paid in peanuts and sand. The best thing about my job would have to be that I don’t know what I’m doing myself; I’m currently charging $150 an hour to document a process for a client. Documenting processes is a subject I undertook at University and managed to fail twice; 6 months later and I’m charging people for my knowledge on a subject that a monkey would know more about.

I’ve learnt it all comes down to how well you can bluff your way through things and whether or not you have the acquired skills of a salesman to sell your case to someone who knows that little bit less about the product, or is simply too lazy to do the job themselves. I question how people get hired; people who can barely string a sentence together have management roles and have workers underneath them who can do their job in half the time and half the cost. It’s interesting to see how the world works and how those who have all the skill and knowledge but no inter-personal skills struggle throughout life, while those who probably spend half their time masturbating and the other half working out where the tissues are get ahead.  The best part about working under someone is when you are forced to eat their crap and then when they ask you what you think, you tell them it tastes like chocolate, ‘Please sir, may I have some more?’

If it was up to us I assume we would pursue that dream that we always fell short of or re-kindle past mistakes to rectify them, but time is such that once it’s qualified it cannot be returned. I once had dreams, a dream of being a wealthy businessman or of becoming a rapper with groupies; but then I grew up and realised that these feats aren’t made for every man. The real reason my dreams died, however, was because I became comfortable. I had a secure job and a secure lifestyle so my dreams decided to buckle up and take a backseat. There is nothing more painful than regret, we constantly endeavour to make our life better and when we reach the summit we turn back because we fear what’s on the other side. Paying the bills and attending to your loved ones take precedence, your world moulds into a startling blend of the people surrounding you.