<unpleasant but unavoidable part of our team's work>
My dad was a construction worker. We had a conversation about my job once, about hard work, back when I was doing 10 hour days. On the one hand, it's objectively not Hard Work like his had been. The worst I'm doing to my body is gonna be kyphosis and RSI and my butt falling asleep on this crappy desk chair.
Recently I told my coworkers that I'd been dreaming about
They were bemused. Why would I mention that?
O God, I could be bounded in a nutshell and count myself a king of infinite space, were it not that I can't stop thinking about my ****ing work
One thing we did establish though is that my job has rented my brain in a way that his never did for his. There is a level of physical exertion at which you can still muse, wonder, daydream, and your boss can't stop you. The nature of my job is that, well, I shouldn't.
If I'm dreaming about my job -- not the social aspects, not anything I'm excited about, just laboring and panicking asleep like awake -- I feel like I've put in useless overtime. Thrashing in the pool and no further to the edge.
thinking about https://multiverse.plus/unboxedthoughts/5