I work in an industry which I have zero, zip, nada, zilch interest in, what-so-effin-ever. How did I end up here? Feeling so jaded.. I so badly want to get a job doing something I love.. too bad I'd probably have to take a 60-70% pay cut.. That's what you call STUCK... and it makes the distaste for one's profession ever fiercer. That I never got to choose the path I really wanted grinds my gears the most though... I'm cursed/blessed with great hands.. I can make things, create, repair.. but once you reach the limits of income which using the hands brings, you look up the totem pole and discover that there's folks up there keeping their hands clean and making triple the money.. Attracts you like a moth to a flame.. So you pursue it, you position yourself higher, thumb your nose at those still on the shop floor.. But you get burnt.. not right away..over time.. it's a slow, smoldering kind of burn.. you don't realize you're on fire until it's too late. Candles burn only at the top for a reason.. Burn-out. I don't have a college education. But I make as much money as if I had a masters degree. Construction is nice that way. As long as you can perform, edumacation don't matter. It's a one way street though.. choose the path of learning a trade, skip college, work your way to the top.. there's no turning back. No other industry will pay big bucks to a high school grad who's a good carpenter or good cabinet maker or a good project manager or a good estimator. No way out. Construction, and all the douch-bag mofos who I deal with day in and day out (not refering to co-workers here), are an inextricable part of my life.. and it breaks my heart to think about it. Partly explains why I must commute to work by bike every day.. Riding home especially, it creates a buffer for the noggin, so that all of the toxicity fed in through my ear and into my head is diluted with fresh air, speed, effort, and sweat..by the time I get home.. It's the equivalent of knocking back a glass of wine or chugging a beer.. So.. where is my dream job in the bicycle industry? it's probably out there.. and probably pays too little. Ebru would need to take a 2nd husband for us to make ends meet. Either that or get a job herself.. So why not start my own business? I don't have an apetite for risk. Sure money is available to make a go of it.. but it will require sacrifice. The question being.. is it as large a sacrifice as my slow death in construction? Who the fuck knows. Maybe I'll never know. My head hurts now.