That's Why They Call It Work

 Everybody eventually hates their job. It's just a matter of course. My son, who spent two years in our basement after he graduated from college applying for jobs that never came, is now gainfully employed. And while he is quite happy to be able to have his own place and qualify for a loan to buy a car, he suffers from those first few minutes of each day that say "you gotta go to work." 

I know how he feels. As much as I look forward to having a chance each day to expand young minds and support my community, it's still a chore. A commitment. A not laying in bed kind of thing. Then there's the part where they can't pay me enough for all the work that I do. This comes with the territory. The territory described by the "job" that I am currently doing. 

Imagine then the plight of the Taliban fighters who, after decades of fighting their fight against whatever occupying forces happened to be setting up camp that month, have moved back to the city. They have put down their machine guns and rocket launchers and returned to "the work force." If that image seems just a hair comical, A one-time freedom fighter complained, “We had a great degree of freedom about where to go, where to stay, and whether to participate in the war. These days, you have to go to the office before eight am and stay there till four pm. If you don’t go, you’re considered absent, and the money for that day is cut from your salary." Omar the Insurgent now has to worry about rent and traffic and pine for the jihad. 

Omar isn't the only one who suffers from transitioning from the shifting fortunes of the job market. “Becoming a member of Congress has made my life miserable. I made a lot more money before I got here. I’ve lost money since I’ve gotten here.” These were the words used by Marjorie Taylor Greene, the brain trust of the House delegation from Georgia. For the record, her salary is one hundred seventy-four thousand dollars a year. This does not include the fees she charges for showing up in various neo-conservative talk shows, podcasts and TV shows to spout her ill-conceived notions. Before she took this step back on the responsibilities of being a United States Congressperson, Marge was large and in charge. She was using her Bachelor's degree in Business Administration as vice-president of the general contracting firm her father left to her and her husband. And she had a job as CFO with Taylor Commercial which she left after doing little or nothing. Then she turned her passion for fitness into a new business called, creatively, CrossFit Passion. 

We can only assume that her previous positions as CFO and vice-president of a construction firm didn't allow enough time to spend culling the dark corners of Al Gore's Internet for wacky conspiracy theories and working on her glutes. Her lamentations continued: “We don’t get to go home and spend more time with our families, our friends … or maybe just be regular people because this job is so demanding. It’s turned into practically year-round. For those of us in the House of Representatives, we have to run for Congress every two years. So you’re practically campaigning nearly the entire time that you’re here serving as a representative.”

I will say that it seems unlikely that the press would be likely to pick up a story about a disgruntled franchise owner of a CrossFit gym. So she's got that going for her. Maybe she could try a job at an office in Kabul. It might mean more access to automatic weapons.