A job is a job... Or is it??

I constantly struggle with deciding what to be when I grow up. I have too many interests. I have a short attention span. Lately I have tried to convince myself that a job is a job. It's not life. It's not who you are. It sure is a big part of it. Usually more a part of my life than I would like. If there was a way to NOT go to work every day so that my life could be filled with things I really love like riding my horse in the mountains, traveling, gardening... this list is much longer than the list of jobs I'd like to do. Don't get me wrong. I like my job. I miss it when I'm gone... most of the time. I try to convince myself that I could really do any job, anywhere, if I set my mind to it. I tell myself that as long as I know that I will go home to my "real" life, no day is too long or too hard. Then I wonder if doing the same job in a different place might make it better or worse. I don't know, to be honest. I found a picture from my recent trip to Venice that made me revisit this question. Is a job a job no matter where in the world you do it? I think I will ask our UPS guy next time he makes a delivery here in Provo. From his truck.

Venetian Delivery