I Am Wasting My Time

My fiancee has a pretty stressful job - she's a retail manager.
She has a lot of responsibility, a whole slew of underlings to train, direct, and discipline. Customers to wrangle.

She wakes up with headaches pretty often.
Damn, that happens to me like once a year, and it pisses me off when it does. I can't imagine waking up with a pounding headache, three or four days a week.

Compared to Cindy's duties and stresses -
Compared to most adult's duties and stresses, my life is very easy.

Surprisingly easy.
Embarrassingly easy.

I work in the video game industry, and so I've worked with a lot of young people who are testers. They are 18, 19 years old, and they have kids already.

I'll be 34 this year, and I still have no kids. I'm not financially prepared for them, I don't know how the 18 year olds are managing it - I know how much they make.

Right now I'm getting paid an obscene amount to warm a chair. I surf the web all day. My biggest gripe is boredom. I should have written a good chunk of a novel by now - what else is there to do?

In the absence of 'real' things to be worried, bothered, or stressed about, it's little moronic things that annoy me. "Honey, you left the printer on all night again." or "The guy next to me at work is eating sunflower seeds again, noisily. Ugh."

Good grief, if those minor, bullshit complaints are my largest stressor, how sad is my life? How few chances have I / am I taking, that I am gliding through life in this way?

Or is this a 'wink and a nod' situation, where it's like "Way to go, dude. You made the right decisions. Enjoy it while you can!"?

Just seems too simple.

And yet, part of me wonders at this compulsion for complexity. In the wild, our mammal brethren are pretty laid-back critters. Once the pups are fed, and the den toasty warm, they get their nap on. We come from a species, a planet, where organisms don't go out of their way, they don't do more than they need to. Squirrels are not putting nuts away for Next Winter. (But squirrels don't have 80 year lifespans, either) Is my sense that I'm not doing enough born of a natural desire, or of a bullshit human expectation to out-do my neighbors and die with the most consumer goods?

It's not like I've taken steps to make life decisions based on "I want my life to be easy.", I've just ended up here. Granted, I started out as a warehouse laborer, worked that job for a few years, and decided I didn't like that, moved into computer-related jobs, rather than 'lifting and stacking' related jobs.

I've worked a lot of menial jobs, dishwasher, hotel maid, industrial laundry washer, 7-11 clerk, dough-maker, the list is long.

A concern I have is, when LIFE does eventually come calling with Kids, Dogs, Mortgage, PTA Meetings, Homeowner Taxes, Losing My Parents, am I going to be able to deal, having sailed through my first 30-40 years of living?

Like everyone else, I have a myriad of plans and schemes in my head. And I never follow through on them. And when I do rarely finish something (like a written work) I don't take the time to submit it, promote it, sell it, actually move forward.

I've got to make use of this paid, free time at work to accomplish something. So far, over the past few months I've been doing some writing, some web design. I've only finished one written work in the last 2 years. I must I must get my ass in gear.