a little insanity could be too much sometimes

you know what? there are days i wish my job was scooping ice cream in some park in Australia or the UK or any part of Western Europe.

i am not sure when that started. somehow, in between the bills to pay, the fat paycheck, and the office politics, insanity seems to sound reasonable.

scooping ice cream for a living looks to me like the simplest road to a simple life, in a country where the poorest of the people were a little far off compared to the majority of the residents in the country i grew up.

but of course, i am probably speaking of what i do not know. having not seen how it was back there (and zsolt did mention it is hard life in a different kind of hardship level. i never knew how it would like surviving winter), i could only drew conclusions from what my impression of life in these countries are.

i told zsolt yesterday that if it isn’t scooping ice cream, i sometimes think of working in a luxury cruise ship. six months of following the rich guests orders and whims (for the generous tips, of course) and then spent the next six months traveling around (backpacking, of course). not worried about what will happen beyond that timeframe. no retirement fund to fuss over. no worrying about my future children’s future. no ponding over whether or not i get that promotion earlier than i expected.

living the moment, that is. i told zsolt.

has my life become so planned out, tied to consistency, attached to the idea of stability and assurance that i have to thought of something so extreme like that? can freedom not be found on fenced ground?

snap out of it, i could hear my ego tell myself. you are in better position than you ever could imagined years before.

does turning my back from all these- my career, my family, my regulated freedom to take holidays, my sure slot of a well-off future- a sign of courage or insanity?

would it even matter in the end?

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