You know, most days, we’re too busy to stop and think about what we’re doing. You get up, you eat breakfast, you get ready for work, you go to work, you work, you eat lunch, you work, you drive home, you eat dinner, you space out in front of the telly for a few hours and you go to bed, you get up, you eat breakfast. . . .
I was on the treadmill the other night and I suddenly realized how symbolic the treadmill was of my life. I’m going at an okay clip, not as fast as I could go or I’d be uncomfortable, not as slow as I’d like since it really wouldn’t be worth it, but I’m not really going anywhere. I ended up exactly where I started. Was this a metaphor for my life? For all our lives?
Sure, there are people out there that are living it up, loving every moment, carpe diem and all that, but aren’t most of us just mice on a really big treadmill? We’re putting it out there, but where are we going? Are we even going anywhere? Aren’t we all just looking for the cheese?
But what’s the cheese?
I’m saving for my retirement, which while financially a sound idea, seems ludicrous at times. While I work, I save for when I won’t have to work. I save so I can do all the things I want to do, but I don’t get to do all those things now, because that wouldn’t pay the bills. Is my whole life transferring imaginary money on Scotiabank? Is retirement my cheese? That seems dumb because I may get hit by a bus tommorrow, or be too old to enjoy it. Retirement is old cheddar, you have to wait for it.
Is vacation the cheese? Those two weeks you take off work to go someplace, see something, do something? But vacation goes by so fast, and you never get enough. Vacation must be cheese fondu.
Is family the cheese? I’m not married, I may not ever get married, and I don’t really see myself having kids so if family is the cheese then it’s my blue cheese, some people think it’s great and others just pass it by.
But is any of that my cheese? They say life is a journey, not a destination, so does that mean that looking for the cheese is the cheese?
It’s too deep for me! I don’t have time to sit around and figure out what the cheese is! And isn’t that the whole problem? And your cheese is probably not my cheese so even if you figure it out, you can’t tell me.
So, I guess it’s back on the mouse treadmill tomorrow.
photo from Flickr