Where's the carrot?

Every now and then, you get to tell yourself that you're doing a swell job. You got that extra swagger in your step, eat at your favorite restaurant, smile at strangers and help the elderly cross the street. Well, this is one of the many, many days that aren't. The realization that these "ordinary" days greatly outnumber the good ones is a tremendous opportunity to look back and bitch about your crappy life.

Just a thought while lying in bed, saddled with a mild hangover from last night's drinking. I can't shake off the feeling that it isn't the weekend yet, that maybe I am waking up late for work. I double checked my calendar just to confirm this, but somehow there's this nagging urge to get to work.

*****

There was a particular year, however, when the good days outnumbered the bad ones. This was freshman year college, a time when I was enlisted in the compulsory military training course. Now this is a classic case of relativity, having to endure hell each Saturday, each benign day thereafter spent in purgatory seemed heavenly. Strange, isn't it? It takes a day in tortuous conditions for me to appreciate all the things that are otherwise insignificant.

Fast forward to today, the dreary spartan lifestyle all working people encounter on a daily basis is painfully highlighted by a weekend of revelry or sloth. Now that's just 2 (or in some cases, just one) days for yourself versus the 5 (or 6) spent in chains for "the man".

I think about it a bit more, and start doing it by the numbers. Maybe 5 days is grossly inaccurate if we do this by the hours... a working day is roughly 9 hours, leaving 15 more hours in a day for myself. Add that to the 48 hour weekend and now this puts a different perspective to how I should view the week. Emphasis on the word "should", cause it certainly doesn't "feel" that way.

Okay, maybe I'm just a cynic. Maybe I dwell too much on the negative side of things rather than focus on the positive facets. Maybe if I learn to appreciate the big picture I wouldn't mind the tiny thorny details at all. Maybe I should get a shrink?

Now this might be a good reason for myself to take up a hobby. Something that I can focus on so I don't get weighed down by my slavery too much. But what? I've tried a number of things out in the past, but my ADD just won't allow me to stick to anything. That and then there's my laziness, of course. Plus poverty.

*****

There's this illustration my dad used in the past on how to manage people, to make them move forward and do good on their work. He compares people to donkeys (or jackasses, whichever visual you prefer), leave it on its own, and it doesn't really do anything. To make it get up and go somewhere, a manager might do one of two things, whip it or use the old carrot-and-stick.

Excuse me, gotta get out of bed and start looking for that darn carrot.