Monday was just as painful as I thought it would be
Coming back from a vacation or trip out of town is always a weird experience for me. I spent Tuesday-Sunday in San Francisco on my first vacation in a while. It wasn't a long trip, but at times it felt like it was. I've been saturated with New York City and what little parts of Jersey I see for so long that going somewhere completely different and new had a bigger effect on me than I expected. Two days after I got to California, it felt like I didn't have anything back in New York; and the only thing I have here is my job. That was a nice change, and I think it was the point of the vacation anyway. But it made me realize that what I usually think about as "important" or "big" parts of my life are completely relative, and always changing.
I was having a conversation with two of my coworkers last week about our sleeping patterns. One of my coworkers is pregnant, and she mentioned that even though she's pregnant, she's been having trouble sleeping because of a project she's working on that's causing her a lot of stress. Another coworker countered that at the end of the day, a job is just a job, and worrying about job-related stresses after you've gone home isn't productive and isn't helpful. While I agree with him, that's tougher to accomplish in practice.
My job isn't high stress
relatively (sorry, it sounds like a cop out word, but it's what I'm using). I'm not a spinal surgeon, or a fire fighter, or a soldier, or a criminal-defense lawyer. I'm not sure I can yet handle a job where someone's life is resting in my hands. I deal with $'s and other small technical things for a large financial company, and in the grand scheme of things the projects I work on are pretty low on the priority list of Senior Management and even
my direct manager. So why do I end up coming home and stressing about it? I'd like to say it's because I'm a perfectionist, and in some ways I am. But maybe it's because I have nothing else to worry about.
I have a healthy and happy family that lives independently of me. I don't have anyone to take care of, and my only responsibilities are paying my rent, doing the dishes, and going to my job. (Even though my SO is 10,000 miles away, I can't take being a good boyfriend off that list. It just requires little physical effort on my part at this point).
Cells and bytes
Worrying about a job in the first place is silly, unless you
have to worry about
something, and a job is all you have. But barring that unfortunate situation (I think that's where I am right now), how much does it really matter? I've had this conversation one too many times with friends, and we inevitably end up at a sort of nihilistic destination. Maybe nihilist isn't the right word, go ask a philosopher. But having that kind of conversation really makes you start to put things into perspective. I'm one person in one city in one country on one planet in this solar system. The things that I care about and accomplish in life are such a tiny piece of all existence that they make no difference at all. Why am I staying awake at night worrying about them?
You could say that "In
my life, in
my existence, they mean a lot." Placing yourself out of an ego-centric viewpoint and looking at things in the very big picture can help or hurt. On one hand, your every day problems, things that annoy you, become rightfully insignificant. On the other, the little joys and accomplishments that you congratulate yourself on suddenly have their importance diminished.
While I was in San Francisco, my brother, friend, and I did the non-geeky thing and went to see a planetarium show at the Science Academy. The show took on the daunting task of tackling "Life" from the perspective of outer space. I'm not smart enough to understand all of the topics the show delved into, but I did come away with a few things:
- A reclining comfy chair in a dark room will put you to sleep.
- There's no way we can be the only form of life in the universe.
- What defines "life" anyway? I think the definition we learned in biology class something to do with carbon, metabolism, and homeostasis. This is too broad of a topic for now, maybe I'll talk about it later.
- We haven't gotten very far out into the universe anyway; there's gotta be someone else out there trying to find us too. Let's keep looking.
- The same fears we have about computers becoming self aware and "thinking" on their own have already happened: just look at humans.
That last point came up as the show described how the first cells were formed out of this primordial sludge. I started thinking about how the cells that became the building blocks of our entire bodies, complete with brains that ponder religion, love, war, and death, all started as some sub-atomic particles bonding together and eventually becoming us. (I simplified billions of years of evolution into a couple sentences.) We became these self aware and philosophical beings out of electrons and protons and the things that make them up.
I'm just one bunch of elements and cells moving around, metabolizing, signaling, on one chunk of rock in a solar system in the infinitely large universe. I'd like to say that musing on all of this has made me not worry or stress about my job.
But what else can I worry about?