buy the time …

I sit at my temporary receptionist job and all around me I here the clicking of keys. Typing in unison. For many, this job was not a second choice, not even a close fourth but it pays the bills. “You gotta do what pays the bills,” even at the expense of your soul. Three o’clock will hit and so will the expected lull. Those Five-Hour Energy commercials show people staring off into space then sprining into action, but they never show what really happens after one takes a swig. They should feature energized people at their computers doing word jumbles or launching hot-dogs into moving buns.

Often my compatriots will refer to themselves as drones. Amongst the definitions on Dictionary.com, DRONE means: “the male of the honeybee and other bees, stingless and making no honey.” Useless. Impotent. Now the people I work with are not useless at all.  In fact they are a viable resource for the company. When we say drone we are referring to how we feel in our jobs – without the power to taste purpose. We find what we do empty and unfulfilling. On the other hand, there is a bond that forms amongst the artists, writers, parents, free-lancers of life, who have the opportunity to make money while striving for other things. That blood pumps through our veins, not electricity through fiber optic cables. We use AIM to remind our fellow bee brethren that there is more to existence outside of the hive. LOL does not stand for “laugh out loud” but “live out life” and BRB stands not for “be right back” but “Break, Refer, Beers.” We all look to see that clock tick six to set us free.

Life shouldn’t be the minuscule moments between work and sleep or the few years we hold sacred between clocking out and checking out. We are bombarded by phrases like “live life” and “get a real job.” I don’t want those to be mutually exclusive. Today I go in for a meeting with the big boss man to talk about how they will utilize me in the future. At this moment, I can not financially afford to give up anything that would create a little stability. At the same time, I refuse to let my stability get in the way of my illusive goals.

If the goal is to go from male without a stinger to the queen; then a Trani-Bee must make sacrifices in pursuit of sweet success.