Work: is it lousy? Or am I lousy with apathy? The only problem with my job, apart from the uncomfortable office furniture and its location in the epicenter of yuppie-ville, is the “do it now!” attitude. I’ve learned to deal with it somewhat; often a project presented as being crucial or whatever just ends up being a case of the bunched panties. And as one might expect, it usually involves a project manager shoring up their prospects for a worry-free weekend.

Of course, that can crimp my nights and weekends. This week– fortunately, an exceptional one– found me doing back-to-back overtime three days in a row. Twelve hours on Monday, thirteen on Tuesday, and nine on Wednesday. By the time the company party rolled around on Thursday, I was beat the fuck down. So I took a sick day. But “free food and drinks!” you say– who cares? I don’t very much like the prospect of following my co-workers around a golf course while they get hammered on Martinis. In fact, it sounds like I’d just spend the afternoon soaking up their despicable mannerisms, fermenting ‘em into a super-concentrated dose of class-based loathing. Uggh.

I just can’t hang with semi-wealthy late-30s douchebags. When I fantasize about quitting, I see myself working in a warehouse. Or driving a truck, or a taxi again. Why the fuck not? I’ve got no kids, no mortgage, no car payment. And seeing what the future holds for me at my job after some bit of seniority has set in (hint: more thirteen-hour days) makes me want to run away as fast as possible.

I guess that’s another problem: I’ve never once desired to be a “web developer”. I like websites, sure. I’m nerdy enough to dick around in HTML and whatnot– but the programming can kiss my ass. While many of my friends waxed about the awesomeness of C++ in high school, I wanted nothing to do with that crap. So now I’m the world’s most unlikely web developer. Or maybe the world’s most unwilling.

Every craigslist ad for web work (and there’s a lot of them) makes me cringe. I see the requirements; I see what the company does or makes or sells– and it sinks a pit of depression deep in my gut. I don’t care. It’s of no interest to me. No matter what, it’s coding a fuckload of pages with some unreasonable deadline. It’d be different if I had a passion for this work. But I don’t. Put me in front of a monitor and give me work? I’ll do it. But asking me to perform something that requires enthusiasm, dedication and innovation? Something that requires me to willfully sit in place for 12+ hours until it’s done? No fucking thanks. I work because I have to. God didn’t call down from the heavens and say “format this dry corporate shit for the web…and do it in xhtml, and make it snappy”.

So I applied for a job at a local college– “Digital Media Specialist” was the position. I interviewed, however, and the job description didn’t seem to have much to do with digital media at all, but rather creating websites for professors to use as course materials. I got called back for a second (five hour!) interview, but I just couldn’t do it. I can’t honestly say I want the job, or the responsibility, or the long-ass commute. So I guess I’ll stay put for now and suffer on. Maybe one day a friend will lure me towards some sort of simple, rewarding work that I enjoy. And maybe I’ll have something in common with the people I work with. But there’s no sense propagating the myth that I want a career in web development. No thanks.