Purpose

I like my job. Keeping IT systems running is challenging and rewarding, But I often wonder if it's truly fulfilling my purpose in life. If I spend another thirty years doing the same thing how will I reflect on what I've achieved? Will I regret not attempting to pursue more ambitious goals that utilise my creativity? Will I wish I tried something more artistic? Or something that benefited society? Every day the nagging feeling gets a little bigger.

Then I wander into the office kitchen to make myself a pod coffee and, if there's no cricket on, the news will be headlined by a story about terrorism in a foreign country where blameless people were just annihilated by shrapnel from a suicide bomber. Or innocent children in Africa are dying from AIDS or Ebola when they've barely had a chance to die from war or malnutrition. Or a reality TV star is facing issues with their current sex partner. Instantly I feel bad that I'm fortunate enough to be quagmired by thoughts regarding my purpose in life when people unluckier than me are being oppressed by the cruelty of the world, hopeless.

That's usually the point I forget thinking about what I should be doing my life. I decide to simply focus on the positive things. My needs are met. I have food, shelter, friends, family, security. And, to reduce the nagging depression caused by world events, maybe I'll drive to the shops and buy some new clothes or visit the bottle shop for some craft or imported beers. What's the point of having money if you don't spend it, right? Who knows when the cruelty of the world is coming to get me?

So there I am, a lone figure in the big box liqour store facing one of countless aisles of beer cartons. Hundreds of shiny labels. Beers from so many nations, all similarly priced. How am I supposed to differentiate between them? Which one am I supposed to pick? There are too many goddamn beer brands to fucking choose from. Fuck!

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