It is hard to believe that it has only been more than 6 months since I joined the ranks of people who work to support their own lives. In a way, it doesn’t feel like six months. It just feels like an amalgamation of eternity and a single heartbeat all at once. I’ve learned so much. More than I feel that I have in the past 5 years alone. Not to say that those years have no impact of their own, but it puts into a perspective of its own that is all too real and not just something that existed in books and simulated experiments any more.
Of course, the bottom line is that work should never be about trying to make sure you don’t end up a destitute hobo. Work should always be about being paid for the things that you love doing to begin with. The only other alternative is being trapped in your own little hell, unable to get out because you still want food in your belly and a roof over your head.
Why shouldn’t I love my work anyway? I have a job that keeps having me learn something new everyday. A job that challenges me to figure out what’s medically wrong with people regardless of whether or not its your stardard quality assurance programs or something urgent happening in the wards outside. A job which most of the time deals with people in the form of test tube samples and specimen jars. A job gives me free swine flu vaccinations. A job that lets me unleash the mad scientist in me. A job where you get to see the most unexpected things on your regular rounds around the hospital. Things like this:
I know 6 months is too early a time to proclaim I have the best job in the world. I probably don’t. But I will say that if I have to work in something for the rest of my life, I want to have the same kind of childish curiosity and excitement as I have right now. It is something to think about when you’ve been doing it for so long. The fun and games doesn’t have to end just because you’re a responsible, working adult. It just means we have to redefine what being an adult means for us. Hopefully that isn’t just wishful thinking.