When I worked on the shipping dock I envied the people who worked in the office. Now, I work in the office and envy the guys on the shipping dock.
The office is air conditioned, clean, carpeted. I sit in a comfortable chair. The iMac is large, although older, it supports the current iterations of the Adobe Creative Sweet. I can browse the internet for as long as I like, push through projects that took days and hours years ago to finish in a few minutes.
And now, I envy the guys on the shipping dock.
They work in the heat and cold. The only ventilation in the facility is the open warehouse doors. There is insufficient light. There is the constant drone of machinery and hand tools, guys yelling at each other, insults, ridicule.
They probably put more work in for the Company in a few hours than I do in a few weeks, pushing tangible products into a truck that are then invoiced to keep the cash wheel turning.
When I worked the shipping dock I was sweaty, cold, hot, tired, sore, injured. I went home feeling used and discarded as I thought myself better than the sweat and cold and heat. Now, in the office, most of the work ricochets inside my skull and comes out typing on a keyboard. When I first started the office job I knew very little of publishing, graphic design, software, photoshop but jumped in with solid purpose as it was the ticket off the shipping dock and into the office. I climbed the steep learning curve and produce printed and electronic product that put dollars in someone’s back pocket.
Now, there is no curve left to climb. Not that I know all of design and development but I wonder what the purpose is to climb any curve now.