Some Pseudo-philosophical Rambling

So you have a job.  And you want to do that job to the best of your ability.  You arrive on time.  You work the whole day.  You take a short lunch.  You complete all your tasks thoroughly and professionally.  And you do this five days a week, fifty weeks a year (two-weeks off for vacation), for ten, twenty, thirty, FORTY years.  And then you retire.  And then someone else takes your place and it just goes on and on and on.

The question the Solipsist is pondering today is, When are you done?  That is, not so much, When are you done.  That takes care of itself through death, retirement, or occasionally indictment.  But when are you done?  It occurred to us today that virtually all jobs are cyclical in nature.  They just go on and on, onward into the future, and when one cog (i.e., person) moves on, another just takes its place.  This isn't meant to be depressing, although we'll admit it is; rather, it's sort of a philosophical question: At what point can you slap your hands together and say, "All done"?

It really makes us envy movie stars--and not for the obvious reasons.  When a movie star (or even an extra) finishes a movie, that movie is done!  It's in the can!  Finito!  How many of us get to experience the same sense of completion at our jobs?  Sure, we teachers enter our final grades at the end of the term, but then there's a whole 'nother class waiting 'round the summer break with the SAME problems as that class we just finished!  When one report is completed, it only raises questions that a subsequent report will need to answer.  How many things does your average president accomplish completely?  (Well, actually, GWB did manage to utterly gut several precepts of individual liberty, as well as demolish America's image abroad, so, y'know, Bravo, Mr. Bush!)

The point, dear Sloppists, is, take pleasure in your small accomplishments.  In the end, that's probably about all you'll be able to look back on and honestly say, "Well done!"