I Don't Actually Care What You Do For A Living

When I meet you and ask you "So, what do you do?" I don't actually want to know what your job is.

I want to know what makes you cry for joy. I want to know what inspires you to sing, even if you can't sing. I want to know what you dream about doing when you're doing ANYTHING else besides that thing. I want to know what you feel you're best at. I want to know what you blush about when someone compliments you on it. I want to know about the one thing you just can't stop talking about. I want to know what makes you tick. I want to hear your stories about how you got into it, and how you love doing it, and how you would do it all day every day if you could. Or even better, how you plan to. Or even better than that, how you actually do it all day, every day.

If you've found a way to make your job that one thing, then and only then do I care what you do for a living. But aside from that, I don't really want to hear about the thing you do 40-80 hours a week to afford the car and the house and the vacations you have that bring you just enough happiness to distract you from the fact you're not doing the one thing that scratches that itch inside you that nothing else can ever scratch.

If you're not on the verge of tears telling me just how much you love doing it, I don't care. Really, I just don't. Because I want to know you, not the facade you've built to convince yourself, me and everyone else you're happy.

Take down the screen, pull off the mask, abandon the role you play for a paycheck and let's talk about you for a minute.