On Monday morning, a coworker told me two sad stories. The first was that a friend of hers had been diagnosed, at 33, with stage four breast cancer. The second was that a friend of a friend was killed in a small plane crash; he was a young father of two. In the midst of all this tragedy (and all of the world’s many tragedies), we had to prepare for a meeting with a VIP client. This client is prepared to sign a very high dollar contract (almost double their last contract), and they deserve our full attention and respect. They probably deserve a lot more than that, since I, at least, pin my whole job on their business. But all I really wanted to do was run out the door and be with “my people,” play in the spring sunshine, and pet my sweet kitties. Instead, I stayed inside, feeling nauseous about my detachment.
Stories like these make me think about what’s really important. And it’s not my job. My job is my vehicle for making the things that are important possible. I know a lot of people are passionate about their work. I’m passionate about a lot of other things. Maybe someday they’ll constitute my work. But for now, let’s watch a video and reflect.
Last Day Dream by Chris Milk