Why aren't I retired yet?

Well, it's another dull day in the ol' cubicle. Work is steadily trickling in but not at a fast enough rate to warrant diligent concentration. I'm feeling the usual depression that follows a really fun long weekend, like a junkie coming down from his high. Damnation, I want to retire!

This weekend we attended the Highland Games. My in-laws purchased a patron package which gave us a VIP parking spot on the grounds and access to the sponsors' hospitality tent which boasted free sodas, snacks, and a commanding view of the games. We were also guests at the sponsors' reception Friday evening, where we were lavished with free booze and a bigass spread of heavy hors d'oeuvres, and entertained by pipes & drums and a grand array of gentlemen garbed in kilts and Prince Charlie jackets. Such is the manner in which this gentle-man should always be treated; without the preferential parking, we would have been subjected to the squalor of the park-and-ride buses and forced to mingle with the unwashed huddled masses.

We were also bestowed by my generous in-laws with two nights at a cozy motel a mere 5-minute walk from the main drag, which offered great little eateries. We chose a pub with an authentic British pub atmosphere and reasonably priced, delicious pub fare.

The entire weekend was mostly enjoyable. The meadow was suffocatingly crowded most of Saturday, but we did catch some good musical performances, including Albannach, who play stirring pipes & drums in a primitive, tribal manner. The drive to & from the grounds offered splendid scenery. We dined on fried, unhealthy lunches such as fish & chips, burgers, and some less-than-stellar haggis. There was no booze of any kind to be found, a flagrant contradiction to the British Isles' proud, long-standing tradition of alcoholism. I downed 3 pints at the pub to make up for the deprivation.

My only complaints about the games revolve around the remoteness of the location, the parking situation, and the amount of driving required. The nearest town is a good 15 minute drive away through low-speed roads, and those who did not procure the expensive VIP spots had to park miles away and wait for a bus. It would be far, far more convenient to hold the games someplace like the state fairgrounds, which handles the massive traffic of the State Fair year after year. Considering the event has been held in the same spot for decades, I doubt a change of venue is likely. Nevertheless, provided we're not living in abject poverty in a year's time, we'll likely return next July.

I love my weekends. I'm so fucking sick of the daily grind—get up, go to work, lose 8 hours of my life, go home, fix supper, kill some brain cells with beer & TV, go to bed, repeat. Little weekend excursions like the above are about the only thing that keep me from burning the goddamn office down. Such diversions are harder to come by with money getting tighter and everything getting more expensive as time goes by. I'm going to be so fucking pissed if they don't start doling out raises this fall. I'm still in my 20s and I dread the prospect of doing this same shit for another 40 years or so. How do people do it? How did my dad go to that same office 5 days a week for 20 years? I really shouldn't complain; at least I'm employed and drawing a steady, if paltry, income in this still-shitty economy. At the same time, I know there is a better way to live; I've seen it. There are a fortunate few who don't go to pointless jobs every day and do whatever the fuck they feel like on any given day. As Tom said in Office Space, "There are people in this world who don't have to put up with all this shit." That film is the anthem of those of us who grew up having all our needs fulfilled by someone else, never had to hold down a summer or after-school job, lived in nice houses in safe neighborhoods, never saw anyone really bust his ass—I don't recall my dad ever working more than 40 hours a week—to provide for it all, and are now left wondering, as we enter the workforce, where our share is, and why asshats like Lumbergh put in the same effort we do (or less) and drive Porsches to work. Or why a certain someone drives his Lexus here only 2 or 3 days a week and returns to his mansion, then goes to France for 2 weeks. We jumped through the academic hoops with the promise of great rewards for our efforts, and then we wound up with shitty little cubicle jobs making half as much as Bubba the heat & air guy who went to community college for 2 years. I'm more and more inclined to support the notion of salary caps. There's no good reason why anyone should be paid more than $100,000 a year when someone like me survives on a third of that.

To make the world even more inequitable, I've played the lottery fairly regularly for the last 3 or 4 years and have yet to win any major prize, let alone the jackpot, while others buy an occasional ticket on a whim and strike it rich. And the winner is always some trashy, uneducated plebe in Indiana who's going to lose it all to con-artists and mooching relatives. Where's the justice? I'm far more deserving of vast riches than the people who usually win, since I would put it to better use by living fabulously.