I know it’s nothing special here in America, but I’ve been working 40 hours a week with no more than 2 weeks off a year since 1995 (with two small exceptions). I’ve had a job since I was 12 years old. And I’ve never quit a job without another lined up. According to the book, “Rich Dad, Poor Dad,” I’m the poor dad; the one who firmly believes that a steady job is the way to get ahead.
As of Friday, I’m going to try Rich Dad. Or maybe “The 4-Hour Workweek”. It seems that in the international climate, jobs are history. The people who get ahead are the ones who make their own opportunities.
It’s difficult to picture any way to make money that isn’t a paycheck. Living across the street from two homeless shelters and a soup kitchen, I have a specific picture of what people without a job look like. But I’m hoping to learn on the road that people without a “job” — and I’m going to start always putting “job” in quotes like it’s something unusual — don’t look like homeless people.
It’s also hard to believe this week was my last Monday. Next Monday might as well not even have a name. It will just be a day. This will be my last “weekend.” Next week, I’ll be like the gentry on Downtown Abbey saying to people, “What’s a weekend?” Without the bookends to each week, what kind of schedule will I develop?
I’m still going to work while I’m seeing the world. I’ll be working to make sense of what I’m seeing. And working to become a world citizen.