Work is for suckers.

(Originally published 12/5/2005)

I would’ve considered myself an ambitious person when I was a teenager. A product of the Bill Clinton still-believing-in-a-place-called-Hope society, I was optimistic and idealistic, feeling fully capable that the world was anything I wanted to make of it. I think I had dreams of overtaking corporate boardrooms, traveling the world, and attending lavish charity balls in a $2K suit.
But not so much anymore. As I got older I realized that living that type of life requires an effort that I’m incapable of putting forth. Why should I bust my balls 70 hours a week making someone else rich when I can walk over to the Jewel and get a box of Little Debbies and sit in front of the TV watching talk shows all day? This is the life I was meant to lead.

I am not working this week. I’m interviewing for jobs I will undoubtedly hate whereas they are all mere distractions, obstacles if you will, preventing me from sleeping late and spending what’s left of my day rearranging the shoe section of my closet. I recently read somewhere that scientist have located an Ambition gene, refering to people with that type of trait like Oprah Winfrey, Bill Gates, and Vera Wang. I do not have that gene. My idea of achieving a goal is getting over a million points on Bejeweled. Unfortunately, no one pays me for this type of work, which I think is sad.

Within a functioning society, everyone ideally has their own role. Everyone plays their own part to keep the machine moving smoothly. I’ve yet to find my role within this process. Apparently, there’s no room in this machine for someone who likes to stay up late drinking beer, have Taco Bell for breakfast, and gauge what day of the week it is based on what’s on television. Oh, Lost is on. It must be Wednesday.

When I’m between jobs, which I often am, I do not blame myself or a society that perpetuates the message that everyone must work. I merely blame my parents. Thanks to this study, I can blame them for not creating a child with an Ambition gene. Sure, they made certain to pass on the male pattern baldness gene, but Ambition they never considered.

My only shot at living this lifestyle and not having to eventually live in a box under the train tracks is to become a "kept" man. However, I’m not young enough anymore to get away with this and I hate going to the gym. Also, I’d be bad arm candy at fancy cocktail parties because I hate small talk.

"Well, we just got back from Bora Bora last week. It was really pleasant."

"I saw a man on the subway yesterday who’d sh*t his pants."

"Pam in Accounting is having another baby."

"I got really drunk a few nights ago and slept in my bathroom."

"Jim was promoted to Supervisor over in Logistics."

"I once saw Jane Wiedlin from the Go-Gos in a casino."

Not only did my parents fail to pass on this Ambition gene, they also failed in the fact that they are not oil barrons or industry tycoons. If I’d been given the proper trust fund I could do whatever the heck I wanted to do with my day and not have to worry about money. I could spend all day chain smoking and reading People and not have to worry about paying the light bill.

Now that’s life.