> I don't care about work because I'm not pathetic.
I honestly don't know who you're trying to convince. The lady doth protest overmuch me thinks. Perhaps you're hoping I'll collapse under the sheer weight of your tedious prose and say, actually, you're right, my work 'tis sound and fury signifying nothing after all, you're so right?
> Ultimately when you inevitably die you won't remember meetings, or cubicles, or water cooler talk. And that's really the big idea.
That's actually a small and pathetic idea because, unless you've made a groundbreaking discovery in neuroscience, I'm sure no one remembers anything after they die. People who mistake useless ideas for profound insights definitely need therapy. That's called delusion.
> Who do you want to be?
I want to be someone who does great work.
> What do you want to spend your care on? And, who will care? I can tell you right now - not a single person in your life who matters gives a single fuck about what you do at work.
I'm genuinely sorry no one in your life cares about what you spend most of your week doing. That's really tragic.
But even if I were in your shoes and no one cared, that's irrelevant. I care! and in the calculus of existence, my opinion of myself is what matters.
> So WHO are you performing for?
It's actually you who is performing, or rather affecting, a rather tired brand of cynicism. Incidentally, cynical people tend to perform worse than average in cognitive tests so …
But seriously, your talking to a man who was trained by Opus Dei. We believe that any work whatsoever is a sacrament which we offer to God, and so that imbues even the most trivial janitorial work (which I have done in the past) with deep significance. And that's even before I go on a long spiel about how I love my work and what I'm doing is literally what I dreamt of doing as a boy.
But good luck to you, friend. To each his own. It's your life, you're living, not mine. I wish you well.