Ugh! Time flies. I'm tired of working. Right after college, in my early twenties, I realized that I was tired of working 40 hours a day, during my first job. Even though no one talked about a work-life balance in the 1980's, I knew I'd rather work less hours and have more hours so I could have a life—a personal life.
Working forty hours a week takes so much time, you can't live.
If I was creating art, publishing my own books, designing my own work and selling it, etcetera, and had enough money to live comfortably, that would be a different thing. As long as I didn't have to work a full forty hour week.
I dream of a day where we will have nationalized health care and we can work part-time jobs (or not work at all) so that we can spend more time in pursuing hobbies and have more time to be creative. And have more time for our friends.
I dream of a life where people can live and be around the people they really want to be with and live with. If you work too many hours, you begin to hate life. I dream of a day where we all have enough personal time to celebrate life.
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