I love my job

I’ve almost always liked my job anyway but things have changed. Now this is true passionate love.
This statement may appear a bit out of place, especially coming from someone on vacation. So let me explain. A few days ago at a friend’s magnificent country house in the middle of hills of South Estonia I wanted to do some good old manual labour. A pile of wood that needed cutting and chopping seemed like a good object.
The first hour felt awesome. The pile of wood was shrinking, sun was shining, a nice wood stack was forming and I felt this romantic connectedness to generations before me that had to do this in order to stay warm in the winter.
In the second hour the back started to ache and I felt more connected to the mosquitos biting me than to past generations.
By the end of third hour I felt a bit stupid. I had volunteered to something I was sick and tired of but the job was not done yet. Technically I could have just put the tools down and returned to the hammock but that would have left something I had said I’d do undone. So I kept fighting that pile of wood with a chainsaw and an axe with rage and anger. This was personal. This wooden monster needed to be killed.
Then somehow my mind drifted to some quite boring work task and I felt this warm pleasant feeling. How fortunate I am that I don’t have to cut and chop wood every day. I have a nice desk, conveniently mosquito and splinter free and my computer doesn’t have a chain than needs sharpening. My job is talking to people, writing stuff and reading what other people have written. How good is that! I love it!
So there you go. On Monday I can return to the office, loving my job. And the long weekend midsummer’s night party, lake Võrtsjärv with wakeboarding and kiteboarding, endless sauna and seeing old friends was not too shabby either.
On this picture – sauna next to the crime scene.


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