I wonder often, why I give up those activities that I enjoy the most: learning a language, writting, playing Nintendo, or going for rides on my bike or car.
Is work really that important? Or am I taking that feared and easy route, Marco always warned me not to take? "The easiest way is not always the best way" he used to tell me. Back then we were in college, living in Shelton Hall, and in my case, living new and exciting adventures every day. There were also "bad" days, and those were the days I heard his words.
Years have gone by, Shelton was Sophomore year, 2004-2005, and we have all grown up, at least according to our ID cards...
Why, you might wonder, am I coming back to his words? This is one of the many questions this blogs refers to.
I have gone through hell in the past weeks: Found out about new taxes I have to pay, had to change my main residency, and with it all my paperwork (car, insurance, residency and work permit, etc), got sick with a nose-ear-throat infection, and couldn't afford time off, so flew to Warsaw and worked 12 hours a day while sick. My mom got sick and I had no way of being in touch with my family, my suitcase got lost on the way from Warsaw and I found myself locked out of my apartment, and not to forget, a wasp-nest in my appartment. I even managed to oversee a stop sign while driving and get caught by the police, which, in Germany, is almost impossible.Honestly, can't be to far from hell, or Murphy's world.
Why does this all happen? My boss sometimes laughs and says that he knows I'm not telling lies with all these stories, as noone could come up with all of it. It just happens, life happens.
And just as life happens in the daily situations, and work becomes a safe environment to escape anything else that could be happening, life also happens in other, less evident to the public, aspects.
Being a workoholic I am escaping the loneliness that surrounds me, and the questions that are always on my mind. Work is the easiest route, but is it the safest?
