What does the phrase ‘nine to five’ mean to you? After a bit of cerebral time traveling I realized that my own interpretation of those three words has changed quite a bit over the years. When I was a child they were just meaningless grownup jabber. Later I discovered that those grownups were referring to the prototypical workday. By the time I finished college nine to five had somehow transformed into a covetable treasure, the object with which I might finally attain the virtues of adulthood. Now two years into my own nine to five that once lustrous emblem of maturity has again mutated, this time into the oppressive bars of a professional’s prison. Thankfully I sense the beginnings of yet another transformation, though into what I am uncertain. Perhaps an investigation of nine to five’s past metamorphoses will help me to predict its future.
When did I become so obsessed with the forty hour work week? My childhood self never wanted a job. He was much more interested in playing with toys and experimenting in the world without the burdens of adult obligation. But then he discovered that grownups have access to a sort of expendable superpower (and what child doesn’t want a superpower?). Of course I am referring to money. Save up enough and you can manifest anything you desire. And under constant barrage of colorful advertisements I was convinced I would never run dry of want. Without my knowing it the governing motivation of my life was quietly turning from exploration into monetary wealth. I learned to regard ‘nine to five’ as the workday, the source of grownup wizardry, the means through which I too could inherit the capacity for material manifestation.
So I started working towards my own nine to five. I opened a savings account and got summer jobs. Then I went to college to learn firsthand of the cardinal objective that is employment. I heard non-stop chatter about a dire job market. I attended career fairs offering enticing salaries and impressive benefits. I enviously watched my peers celebrate the acquisition their own nine to fives and was seized by a sense of urgency, one that reinvented my notions of wealth and personal success as one and the same. Nine to five was the credential I needed to prove I was on track, that I wasn’t just another Millennial destined for his parents’ basement. So when I did eventually find my own nine to five of course I felt tremendous relief. I had acquired the salary with which I could finally be considered a respectable member of society. Little did I know that my splendid prize would eventually turn on me.
The beginning of my full-time employment was agreeable enough. I learned exciting new skills. I met impressive people. And, most importantly, I got paid. Unfortunately over of the next two years my youthful zeal rapidly degraded into lethargy. A salary wasn’t bringing me the happiness I had anticipated, nor were the ‘freedoms’ it afforded me. In fact, it seemed to be doing the opposite. I stopped pursuing profitless creative endeavors. I stopped reading books and meditating. I used this ‘career’ as an excuse to discontinue my own personal growth as if at the ripe old age of 24 I had somehow concluded my own spirit’s unfolding. All that was left was to walk the beaten trail, to grudgingly resign myself to a lifetime of labor. Unfortunately it is from within this resignation that I am currently writing. Something terrible has happened to the once lustrous ‘nine to five’ I took a quarter of a lifetime to obtain. Every day I watch the clock like it’s a gatekeeper, hoping against reason he decides to move his hands just a little faster towards the hour that is my freedom. But let’s put aside melodramatic symbolism for a moment and address the stated purpose of this treatise: to predict my nine to five’s next transformation.
‘Nine to five’ has revealed its progression as parabolic. What began in the mire of undefined words grew upwards into the concept of the workday. From there it continued towards its apex, eventually arriving as the very definition of personal fulfillment. Then, proving unable to meet my absurd expectations it slipped downwards again, this time manifesting itself as the metaphorical prison in which I am currently detained. Therefore I predict nine to five will continue its descent, return into the abstract and in doing so free me from the constraints of societal convention. Born into this world a meaningless phrase ‘nine to five’ shall inevitably return into my conceptual repository an irrelevant expression, a shadow whose imaginary substance I have endorsed for far too long. That we must follow in the footsteps of the moneyed is an inveterate lie we tell ourselves to exchange passion for a paycheck. That material wealth somehow equates happiness is a dangerous distortion of an unpleasant truth: that our society regards profit as more important than its inhabitants’ fulfillment. Thankfully we individuals possess the invaluable ability to look inwards, identify our own delusions, and adjust accordingly. In this way we are all blessed, and I for one choose to never again disregard such vital providence.
-Michael
(written in November 2015)
When did I become so obsessed with the forty hour work week? My childhood self never wanted a job. He was much more interested in playing with toys and experimenting in the world without the burdens of adult obligation. But then he discovered that grownups have access to a sort of expendable superpower (and what child doesn’t want a superpower?). Of course I am referring to money. Save up enough and you can manifest anything you desire. And under constant barrage of colorful advertisements I was convinced I would never run dry of want. Without my knowing it the governing motivation of my life was quietly turning from exploration into monetary wealth. I learned to regard ‘nine to five’ as the workday, the source of grownup wizardry, the means through which I too could inherit the capacity for material manifestation.
So I started working towards my own nine to five. I opened a savings account and got summer jobs. Then I went to college to learn firsthand of the cardinal objective that is employment. I heard non-stop chatter about a dire job market. I attended career fairs offering enticing salaries and impressive benefits. I enviously watched my peers celebrate the acquisition their own nine to fives and was seized by a sense of urgency, one that reinvented my notions of wealth and personal success as one and the same. Nine to five was the credential I needed to prove I was on track, that I wasn’t just another Millennial destined for his parents’ basement. So when I did eventually find my own nine to five of course I felt tremendous relief. I had acquired the salary with which I could finally be considered a respectable member of society. Little did I know that my splendid prize would eventually turn on me.
The beginning of my full-time employment was agreeable enough. I learned exciting new skills. I met impressive people. And, most importantly, I got paid. Unfortunately over of the next two years my youthful zeal rapidly degraded into lethargy. A salary wasn’t bringing me the happiness I had anticipated, nor were the ‘freedoms’ it afforded me. In fact, it seemed to be doing the opposite. I stopped pursuing profitless creative endeavors. I stopped reading books and meditating. I used this ‘career’ as an excuse to discontinue my own personal growth as if at the ripe old age of 24 I had somehow concluded my own spirit’s unfolding. All that was left was to walk the beaten trail, to grudgingly resign myself to a lifetime of labor. Unfortunately it is from within this resignation that I am currently writing. Something terrible has happened to the once lustrous ‘nine to five’ I took a quarter of a lifetime to obtain. Every day I watch the clock like it’s a gatekeeper, hoping against reason he decides to move his hands just a little faster towards the hour that is my freedom. But let’s put aside melodramatic symbolism for a moment and address the stated purpose of this treatise: to predict my nine to five’s next transformation.
‘Nine to five’ has revealed its progression as parabolic. What began in the mire of undefined words grew upwards into the concept of the workday. From there it continued towards its apex, eventually arriving as the very definition of personal fulfillment. Then, proving unable to meet my absurd expectations it slipped downwards again, this time manifesting itself as the metaphorical prison in which I am currently detained. Therefore I predict nine to five will continue its descent, return into the abstract and in doing so free me from the constraints of societal convention. Born into this world a meaningless phrase ‘nine to five’ shall inevitably return into my conceptual repository an irrelevant expression, a shadow whose imaginary substance I have endorsed for far too long. That we must follow in the footsteps of the moneyed is an inveterate lie we tell ourselves to exchange passion for a paycheck. That material wealth somehow equates happiness is a dangerous distortion of an unpleasant truth: that our society regards profit as more important than its inhabitants’ fulfillment. Thankfully we individuals possess the invaluable ability to look inwards, identify our own delusions, and adjust accordingly. In this way we are all blessed, and I for one choose to never again disregard such vital providence.
-Michael
(written in November 2015)