The Ladder Can Burn

Recently, I signed up for a project management course.
Not because I cared about project management.
But because I thought maybe—maybe—it could help me make as much money as my wife with a PhD.
While I sit here with my lowly little MFA in screenwriting, a mountain of feelings, and a Word doc nobody asked for.

Then something serendipitous happened.
My dad died.

And suddenly, the words efficient, practical, and growth opportunity all started to sound like the same kind of lie.

I looked at the course and realized it was teaching me how to add steps to things that already had steps.
To create meetings.
So I could create purpose.
So I could create jobs.
So I could create steps.
So I could create jobs.
So I could create purpose.
So I could create...you get it.

Fuck that.

I’m just going to create.

I don’t need an exam.
I don’t need a certificate.
I don’t need the next rung on a ladder I never wanted to climb.
I don’t even need to make what my wife makes. Hell, my younger brother with a general studies degree makes more than I do.

And you know what?
I’m okay with that.

Fuck trying to find a role that suits me in an environment that doesn’t.
Fuck trying to find purpose in a world that doesn’t care what I have to say.
Just—fuck it.

Bukowski said, “Find what you love and let it kill you.”
I think that’s because if you’re not doing what you love—
You’re already dead.