Pyrrhic victory

I think I work too hard.

There are days I really want to live a Bohemian lifestyle, doing whatever work comes my way, travelling from town to town, and calling a small comfortable house my home. I like luxuries too much, though. There's nothing like forgetting about the world around you and playing "Gangster Killing and Robbery" or "Zombie Mall" for the X-Box 360. Travelling is far better in a mid-size luxury sedan than through mass transit. Odd jobs and side projects are finished a lot faster with a tool set than with a broken Leatherman you stole from your work's Lost and Found.

So, I find myself in a regular job that has regular hours and regular pay and a regular desk with a regular set of co-workers who do everything by regulation.

It pays my electricity bills, and my internet bills, and my video game bills. I should be thankful I have a job at all. I should be. But like every other whiner in his or her 20's, I can't be satisfied until things are completely perfect for me. Besides, if I got everything for free, I couldn't truly appreciate what I have done. The fruits of my labor are enriching, like the new album by The Shins.

At the end of the day, I feel tired. I wake up tired. I yawn all day. Does my love of luxury come at a cost to my own personal well-being? Yeah, probably. Especially on drinking nights.

Maybe I should start taking some vitamins.