I Want to Be a Salamander
Here we are already at the end of the weekend, the time when people are starting their weekly grieving process before having to go back to work and start all over again, although I can’t say I feel like I’m grieving because I feel like this weekend just started, and I never figured out what to do with it. I just started, and it’s over.
I would very much like the four-day workweek to become a thing in this country, although as I mentioned in a previous Facebook post, it’s hard to imagine who would lead this movement. Raise your hand if you want that embarrassing job: “Hey everybody, I understand that I have privilege, but I’d also like to work less.” Who wants to be the face of that?
Tammi the ripped corporate success witch is here to inspire
I scroll through my social media feeds, and see a good number of life coach types out there who invite you to give them 400 dollars to invest in yourself, and in return they will call you up several days a week and say, “You can do it!” or something to that effect and then give you a recipe and a spell and demand 15 push-ups. I mean, okay. Does this work? I don’t know. Does it appear to involve being hot? Yes. Of course. Everything does now. Does it involve having some sort of overwhelming branded “passion” that persists through every life change and setback and potential realization that you don’t even care about anything anymore? Of course it does. How exhausting.
Amphibious lifestyle influencer
What I would really like is to become a salamander. I say this not because I like to be on water *and* on land, but also because I don’t sense that salamanders get a lot of pressure to pursue their passions — or even have any to begin with. Also, to my eye, and sorry if this is wrong, but they all pretty much look the same, and so taking hot selfies to splash on social media is probably not a concern. Are they out there showing off their fancy vacations? Probably not. It’s going to be hard for them to get on a plane. Do they ask the hive mind for good vibes for something mysterious — a message that reveals just enough to let you know that they are successful, and you are not? I don’t think so. I think they’re just in the mud.
And yet they seem like they do just fine.
They let go of what doesn’t serve them
Salamanders don’t have to meet corporate metrics goals. They can just be on a log, and later, slide into the water. I can’t imagine they do a lot of meal planning. They don’t need to vacuum. They don’t have to show other salamanders a leaf they tied up into a knot and have those salamanders go, “I don’t like it,” or, “You should see the knot that this other salamander tied up 25 years ago. It looked a lot like yours, except better.”
They don’t have to do any of this. I’m no expert but I’m pretty sure they just eat and swim around a bit and then lie still, and no one gives them a hard time about their output or productivity data or anything like that.
They exist, and it’s fine.
Anyway, Friday is five days away. That’s closer than it was a couple of days ago. I’m sitting here in front of the fireplace, breathing through my skin.