With BeerSummit coming up and all, I'm guessing that folks are steeling themselves for the inevitable, "Oh god... I can't look at another beer," feeling that's the inevitable result of a three day buzz. I can certainly appreciate this.
The thing is, I've a bitters to bottle, and I've come to like the once-a-month schedule that we've been on, so I'm planning on brewing on Sunday. As usual, breakfast and cheese will be available, though the beer stock is currently running a bit low. For other-room entertainment, I'm thinking about a trio of Bill Murray flicks, but I'm open to suggestion.
At the studio last night, I was talking to Darrell a bit about what I do. He laughed a bit and said, "Every time I hear about what other people do, I think about how simple my life is." When I commented that I'd like a little more of that simplicity in my life, he stopped me. "That might be true," he said, "but most of the time I feel like I missed the boat."
Where to begin with this?
There's certainly something to be said for being in the thick of things. There's a sense that you are actually part of the world. There are things that you do and you know on some level that those things have meaning. You are also witness to the things that others do, and the weight that those actions bear. It's possible to argue that the more responsibility you bear, the greater the potential effect you can have on the community in which you find yourself.
But that's not the whole story. In the past couple of months, I've come to realize that there will always be one more story the press is scrambling for, there will always be one more legal proceeding that requires immediate action. There will always be one more crisis. My workplace is one of profound boredom that isn't punctuated by moments of terror, but spawned of it. My ability to deal with these stressors has inspired the confidence of my superiors, but I swear sometimes that it's killing me.
So I'm sitting there with someone who's made his living as an artist, and part of me wonders where his doubts come from. I certainly don't think that the work he does is any less important that the work I do. In fact, I tend to think that if everyone took as much care looking after the small details with everything they do, we'd be a lot better off. My work primarily serves attorneys seeking damages from providers who they argue didn't look after the small details. I am tied into our society's cycle of acquisition. Why am I therefore judged (even by him) to be more in touch with that which is important?
Something doesn't feel quite right here.