Pressing My Buttons

This week, I said goodbye to a coworker I've grown quite fond of. After 25 years, he's decided to leave the company. When I asked what he's moving on to, his response was, "Nothing."

He is finally at a point in his life where he can afford to step away from the workforce for a few months and just...live. So he's going to do just that.

I was instantly jealous, then humbled as I reminded myself how long and hard he had to work to get to this point. 25 years is a lot of time to devote to something that merely pays the bills. Do I have it in me to do the same? Do I really want to?

I have talents that go beyond pressing all of the right buttons to place an order in the system. Musical talents, artistic talents, literary talents, etc. Do I really have to spend 25 years pressing buttons before I get to dig into those talents? Is that really my purpose?

The sensible answer is, "Yes. Yes I do have to press buttons for 25 years because pressing buttons is what puts a check in my account twice a month and I can't afford to live without those checks."

I hate sensible answers. But I suppose I hate homelessness even more, so, for now, I'm not going anywhere. Here's hoping for now lasts less than 25 years.