Why am I doing all this?
I ask myself as I watch my schedule morph from day to day until I find the bulk of my time and energy is taken up by work - not just longer hours and more to do, but more time that it lives on my brain. With the hours, of course, comes either less sleep or earlier bedtime, which cuts into doing the things I really do enjoy doing. Before I know it, I am suddenly in the thrall of that which must be done with a sprinkling on top of that which I might like to do.
Why am I doing all this?
It is certainly not for any sense of getting ahead - that door has pretty much effectively closed at this point. Nor is it from some glorified sense of "doing good" - I've been doing what I am doing long enough to know the limitations of that area. Out of fear? Possibly - fear of being singled out as ineffective, lazy, a non-performer - but even then that doesn't seem explain the larger sense of why I push myself harder and harder at something which I know in my heart of heart makes no difference.
Why am I doing all this?
There are no "good solider" awards for life that I am aware of. Effort alone is no guarantee of any kind of reward - and I have been doing my line of work long enough to know that the lights can go off with very little notice indeed.
It is just in my heart of hearts I cannot believe that collecting data and writing documents for things that will not matter in five years is hardly living life to the fullest.
Why am I really doing all this?
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