I have a fascination with the way other people live, especially when they're ways of life that are very different than mine. I'm always interested in hearing about how other people make their living, what their houses are like and so on. Part of this is because I have an itch for change; eventhe things I like doing best, I don't like doing for very long, with the two exceptions of reading and marriage. (And even there, I usually have a couple of books going at once. Only one husband, though.) Part of it is because while most aspects of my life are good enough, few of them couldn't stand a change for the better.
A more ideal life for me would involve the same spouse, the same friends but more of them and more time with them, a house that is not necessarily fancier but bigger and more rambly (and my house is already more big and rambly than it is fancy), a job with more people-contact and a little more variety, the ability to work at home sometimes, a cooler climate, a little more travel (and not just to regattas). Most of those are surprisingly small changes, so maybe I'm even happier than I thought. The one major change would be that I'd like more disposable time, both in small chunks during each day to knit and read or even do errands, and in large chunks of several days, to go traveling or do projects or relax.
This morning I was thinking about some of the more intriguing alternate lives I've heard of. When we went to Antarctica at the end of 2003, the boat was staffed with a cruise staff with varying jobs: coordinating our itinerary, taking us out in Zodiacs, coaching us in kayaks, explaining what we were seeing, giving us photography tips, and keeping people happy and entertained - sort of a cross between professors, wilderness guides, and resort staff, with some jobs leaning more one way and some the other. They all live on the boat all (Northern hemispere) winter, from November through February or March, with only a couple hours' break in town to do laundry and send email between trips. Some of them work on cruises to Alaska in summer. One guy was telling us about his cottage somewhere in the backcountry of Ontario that he lives in during his two or three months off a year. It's demanding, but it sounds wonderful in some ways; their work is a part of their lives rather than a separate thing, they're in beautiful scenery, and they get large chunks of time completely off.
On the other hand, I realized, even if I were prepared to deal with no time off during the working months, I simply couldn't do that job. All of the cruise staff took us out in Zodiacs at one time or another, and the outings were always for a couple of hours right after breakfast or lunch. No breaks, no bathrooms. A couple of times, I asked to be taken back to the ship early, but the staff doesn't have that option. I couldn't do it. I couldn't be a flight instructor easily, either - at least, I could, but it would be difficult. Those guys fly all day, for a couple of hours at a time, with only short breaks between students. Often they don't get time to eat during the day, or just grab something from a vending machine, and (since our tap water isn't drinkable out here) they only have cans of soda to drink. IBS has had more impact on my life choices than I'd like to think; I like to believe I'm an adventurous person but I work in an office, with clean bathrooms and air conditioning and the ability to eat or drink whenever I want. I think it would be easier to be more adventurous if all my choices weren't bounded by the limits of my body, or if those limits were wider. On the other hand, what I think of as "normal people" - those who almost never have to consider issues of eating or digestion - too often have other physical limits. My IBS isn't bad at all these days; it rarely keeps me from doing what I want to do and when it does, it's usually my own fault for eating something I knew would be a problem. On the other hand, I have working arms and legs, heart, lungs, eyes and ears. I don't have to worry about falling asleep at inopportune times or going into insulin shock or disabling depressions. My limits are really not all that bad.
Damn it, it's hard to complain when your brain insists on looking at the big picture on every issue. It's extremely annoying having your own built-in Pollyanna.
Posted by dichroic at May 10, 2005 02:58 PM
Always choices to debate, trying to seek a level of satisfaction which has thrills, spills and chills mixed in with no discomfort. Been trying that for years and seem to be more comfortable living a sedentary life that a bad back requires.
Boooooring though.