I ask because I recently had this discussion with my boys, Stanley the sex bunny and Carl the dense one.
As usual, Carl our clueless friend responded with a question mark
Also finding a need for clarity was Stanley.
"By loving what I do, do you mean my day job which is boring, or my night job, which is also boring -- but of the drilling and poking sort?" Stanley asked.
"Blow job! Hand job!" Carl replied excitedly like a child taking pride in giving correct answers to his kindergarten teacher.
The topic came about because some of my friends are rethinking their lives.
At age 42, most of my peers are doing very well in their respective careers.
And at this juncture, there are a few choices ahead of us.
Go straight, turn left, or make a U-turn.
"Don't go straight!!!!" warned Carl who is on an answering roll. "We are gay!!!"
Going straight, I explain, is to continue on one's career path and keep aiming higher and further.
Making a left turn is to take the road less travelled, but still on the forward-going path: Like, making a relatable career switch that is still within one's capabilities.
Naturally, making a U-turn is to make a radical move to turn one's life around -- like, totally quitting your job and doing something really random, such as shaving and be a nun or something.
"Firstly, when I shave, it's because I'm preparing for a date and possibly some action down under," Stanley says. "So I don't think your nun analogy is very correct, unless Mother Superior is getting ready for some holey action."
"Secondly, what rubbish theory is that, Adam? I don't recommend you make things up along the way."
But the question remains.
I ask the boys if they feel any sense of exhaustion from their work.
Ture enough, Stanley does.
In fact, he's been thinking that he's come to the point of no return.
"And trust me, in another context, my point of no return would lead to a very happy, orgasmic ending. But in my case, where work is concerned, it's going downhill," he wrote dully in the group chat.
"I have bills to pay, luxury items to buy, and expensive wines waiting to be appreciated. I can't do anything but carry on taking the, God forbid, straight path!"
"We're GAY! We're GAY!" Carl said merrily, and proudly posted a gif of a flailing pride flag.
"Sometimes I feel like my work has no meaning," Stanley said.
"And I really want to do something serious and meaningful like missionary work -- going around to meet as many men as possible to spread not the word of God but something else that's very specific," Stanley continued, steering our topic to dangerous waters.
Carl's position on this matter, however, is quite different from Stanley's.
He likes to take it lying down and not make any unnecessary effort.
"That's just coasting," I pointed out.
"No, that's being a lazy bottom," said Stanley. "Nobody likes a lazy bottom who doesn't invest."
By then I wasn't sure I had full control of my initial topic, seeing that this discussion had gone off track.
But Stanley was still interested to explore the topic. Since he was a child, he'd always been looking to explore and experiment.
"Sometimes, I can close my eyes and do my work blindly by way of habit and not feel challenged," Stanley said, adding "no offense to visually-impaired foot masseuse."
I totally see Stanley's point.
We're at a stage where we need to decide how we feel about our current careers.
And for most of us, a radical switch is not an option on the table.
So when the going gets tough, my basic principle is, take a peek at our bank account. When we see how full it is, we should be thankful.
"I agree," Stanley said. "But that's applicable only to my love life. Not my work life
I was nervous and scared to ask Stanley to elaborate further.
"When I feel like my love life is non-existent, I take a peek at my sperm bank and I see that there've been many transactions, mainly deposits made by many individuals. And I feel thankful."
Feeling that Stanley is once again starting to spiral out of control, I decide to factor in Carl.
"What about you, Carl? What are your future career goals?"
"I guess I'm okay. The pay is good. I can handle the work. And I can knock off early to go to the gym."
Good for Carl.
The dense one, for once, knows what he wants and is doing a good job at getting it right.
I sometimes envy friends who are brave enough to make radical moves to change their work lives.
Most of them are lawyers who've earned enough cash, suffered enough stress, so they hang up their legal robes for the chef's apron, or build homes for the poor in other Asian states.
But, you know, these guys have amassed enough money so in a way, their so-called radical moves are actually quite calculated -- down to when their last dollar would be spent.
And for poor, middle class people like us... if we happen to love our job, that's good.
But if we don't, we'll have to suck it up.
"Why does the prospect of sucking it up in this case not excite me?" Stanley asks.
"We're GAY! We're GAY!" Carl said.
I talked to my partner J about his career move.
As usual, my career-driven and wise boyfriend has it all planned -- right down to when he's going to retire.
But he did tell me that if I or any of my peers feel the need to make "radical moves", we should "take a step back and don't do anything rash".
Stanley totally agrees.
"The last time I did something rash, I got something rash. And it's the sort that has to be dealt with by injecting antibiotics."
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Adam's stories are based on real life events and inspired by real people
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