Once I was a Marine combat engineer. We worked all day. Reveille starts at 06 and taps wasn't until 20, 21, or maybe even 24. There was a singular focus through

Once I was a Marine combat engineer. We worked all day. Reveille starts at 06 and taps wasn't until 20, 21, or maybe even 24. There was a singular focus throughout the day: get shit done. That involved no computers, no phones, no digital distractions. Just blowing up stuff, building bridges, or moving boulders by hand. Physically draining work that at the end you try to somehow find a can of un-skunked beer to cheer to. I remember the culture was unkind to office work, they saw it as soft. That's partly why they were out there in the first place, unfit for mainstream society, not wanting to be desk jockeys, just good ol' boys, the desperate, the unwanted, the jailed, standing around in uniforms doing things with their hands. I made sure I never told anyone I was any good with computers. The type of problem solving we had to do on a day to day basis didn't require too much thought, and if anything there were always policy or documentation to explain what to do and how to do it. Long days, hard work, but I never had to use my brain. I quite enjoyed functioning as a tiny cog in a big machine despite the risks. Transitioning home, I found work at a premier tech company, one where they make phones, tablets, and computers. The work was different. I stared at screens all day. Inside a cubicle with fuzzy walls, where often times the only communication I have were email chains. Operating a computer, functioning as a tiny switch in a big board required the a more precious asset: my brain. I was thinking all the time, trying to recall, connect, and communicate. And doing the same thing all day is... boring. I went home every night drained. Physically, mentally, and emotionally. The days weren't as long, the environment wasn't bad, the risk were low but the work is hard. I hated it. Nowadays I code. I romanticize my job by equating it to writing love poems to an inanimate object. Sometimes I get affection, often times I get rejection. It's an ongoing love-hate relationship. One that just takes and takes from my brain while leaving me a soft, mushy lump on a nice Aeron chair yearning to be free. Computers took a lot from me since I was 10. Two decades late I've only barely learned how to take a lot from computers. Find your balance.