Therapy

This is my therapy.

We used to rehab houses. Now I rehab furniture. I rehab, refinish, repurpose, reclaim, recycle and upcycle old furniture and materials that would otherwise end up taken to Goodwill or, even worse, the dump. But really, I feel like I’m repurposing my work, rehabbing myself, and reclaiming my life.

Don’t get me wrong. I haven’t been unhappy overall. I have a wonderful husband, an amazing daughter, and a step-son who has taught me a lot about what it really is to be a parent. And I’ve been lucky enough to have a high-paying career that allows me to work from home. But my work hasn’t been fulfilling.

I’ve worked for 13 years in the software industry. I’m not curing cancer or ending world hunger. I’m a project manager, and anyone who knows anything about software project management knows it’s kind of a bullshit job. Lots of status reports and conference calls, but I don’t really produce anything.

Basically my life feels like the movie Office Space. (Such a classic!!) Some days I feel like Michael Bolton (not that no-talent ass-clown – the one from the movie) or Samir (Naga… Naga… Not-gonna-work-here-anymore-anyway) smashing the printer in a fit of rage.

Samir

Other days I feel like Milton, muttering about the unfairness of life, my stapler, and burning down the office.

Milton

On my more hopeful days, I’ve felt like Tom, with his “Jump to Conclusions” mat, trying to find that money-making idea that will set me free of this rat race, but always coming up short.

Tom

But right now, I feel like Peter, who’s been freed of worrying about his career and just wants to go fishing.

Peter

Except in my case I just want to paint furniture.

So this is my therapy. My journey into doing whatever excites and interests me at the moment, and actually producing something tangible along the way. I still may not be ending world hunger, but at least I’ll be doing my part to reuse and recycle, and making the world a happier place, starting with me.

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