Greedpeace approaches

I was approached on the streets of downtown Palo Alto yesterday by a young man from Greenpeace. He was about my age, a bit more masculine-looking, with cactus-like stubble on his face, a squarish, move-star jaw and penetrating green eyes. Given his styled short hair and J.Crew style, I mistook him at first for a yuppie-in-training (which he could have been). Still, he was quite passionate about the cause that he was promoting.

He caught me as I was parking my bike at the corner outside the Peet’s Coffee. After I’d locked up–he waited for me, graciously–he started talking to me about Greenpeace and their initiatives. Of particular concern were whales. In fact, I believe this was the primary cause at the moment for the organization.

Interestingly, his pitch was an attempt to hook me to donate to Greenpeace. When he had finished his spiel and handed me a clipboard, I looked at it and said, “well, I can’t really donate right now because I’m not doing too well financially.”

He was not nonplussed. “It would be pretty messed up if we didn’t let people become members for financial reasons,” he said. I would agree. “So, we let you donate as little as 15 dollars a month.”

This seemed to contradict what he had just said. Fifteen dollars is a tremendous sum–about 1.2% of my monthly salary or two hours of work. After rent and transit (about 70% of my income) I have had weeks where I finished with as little $28 in my bank account, and I really didn’t need another $15 docked. I told the man my little parable about having $28 at the end of last month.

“That means you can still donate $15 and have money left over!” he said.

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The point I’d hoped to get across to this brainwashed fool was that money shouldn’t really be necessary to support a social cause. Words, actions and volunteer time are, in a true social revolution, more important than money.

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All this talk of jobs and lifestyle has had happiness on my mind lately. What is it that makes one person happy as opposed to another and why? Is there any universality in this?

I think about this often in relation to my “job.” (I use scare-quotes to denote that my job is probably only loosely a job; because it’s through Americorps, it is bureaucratically “service,” and I get paid a “stipend,” not a salary by the government’s definition. Also I don’t like thinking of it as a job because I don’t like it). I am perpetually unhappy at my job. I feel like it is taking away from my real life goals–-not only taking away, but detracting in fact, not building towards anything at all. I would be okay with a job that took up all my time if it allowed me to save money, because that would equate to eventual freedom from work. I would be okay with a job I didn’t like if I worked part-time and had more freedom with my time. I would be okay with a job I liked. This job fulfills none of those requirements.

Anyway, I wonder at how unhappy I am because so many of my co-workers seem pretty contented. I’m kind of the anomaly. Even though we’re working for a nonprofit, I don’t find the bureaucratic busywork in the least bit stimulating. But most people here seem pretty happy, pretty fulfilled. I’ve kept very secret my own feelings towards the state of pure work into which my life’s been funneled.

Admittedly I feel frustrated that others are happy when I am not. Why is this? Why can’t I be happy in something that so many others seem to not only find contenting but downright enjoyable?

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What a horrible day at work. I feel like I’m kept alive by the last remaining thread of hope I have, which is this scheme to go homeless. The mangling of my daily free time at this job is the most disheartening feeling I have ever had. I struggle to find ways to maintain my cool at work, but my dispassion is starting to seep out. I have been fortunate to have been able to use the facets of social engineering to get away with avoiding a lot more discomfort than I would otherwise.

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Home-Free Living:

A Manifesto in Favor of Homelessness as a Lifestyle Choice for the Privileged Class
by Kristen Cheep

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