My true calling.

Now that I have a head full of graying hair, I've found that my true calling in life is not actually any kind of career or work at all, but to be lazy and unemployable, ideally with a succession of beautiful young ladies. Perhaps reading a good book, sitting in a beautiful verdant garden with a hot Tuscan sky above me. Or maybe in a comfortable chaise-lounge overlooking a perfectly maintained pool, living on room service at a five star hideaway, at some tropical beach in Southeast Asia. An ice cold mango colada in hand. Or maybe traipsing about in Cinque Terra, Italy, with absolutely nothing to do but find someplace that makes a perfect pasta pomodoro for dinner, using vine ripened tomatoes and served on a wheel of parmesan. The truth is that every cell in my body cries out against the inhumanity of regular employment. To misquote Thoreau, "I wish to live deliberately. I want to live deep and suck all the marrow of life... but only if it doesn't take too much effort..."

What is my bliss to follow? Sleeping late on Monday morning, when everyone else has to get up for work. Followed by sleeping late on Tuesday morning... Wednesday morning... ad infinitum. I love sleeping in so much, I should make a religion out of it. Maybe call it Beddhism. My really serious followers would become Beddhist monks... taking a vow of slothfulness, and sleeping in for several years, to try to recover from the profound exhaustion imposed by the crazy work schedules in America.

So the question is, how can I achieve this life of languid indolence, where I can afford to play and love and dally and travel and explore and learn to my heart's content? For the first half of my life, I was sold on the idea that hard work would eventually yield a life of leisure. But now, I'm wondering if there's a better way...

Anyway, this bout of musing was triggered by a joke someone sent me:

My first job was working in an orange juice factory, but I got canned...couldn't concentrate.
After that I tried to be a tailor, but I just wasn't suited for it...mainly because it was a so-so job.
Next I tried working in a muffler factory but that was too exhausting.
I managed to get a good job working for a pool maintenance company, but the work was just too draining.
I attempted to be a deli worker, but any way I sliced it, I couldn't cut the mustard.
Then I worked in the woods as a lumberjack, but I just couldn't hack it, so they gave me the ax.
Next was a job in a shoe factory; I tried but I just didn't fit in.
So then I got a job in a workout center, but they said I wasn't fit for the job.
After many years of trying to find steady work I finally got a job as a historian until I realized there was no future in it.
I studied a long time to become a doctor, but I didn't have any patience.
My best job was being a musician, but eventually I found I wasn't noteworthy.
I became a professional fisherman, but discovered that I couldn't live on my net income.
My last job was working at Starbucks, but I had to quit because it was always the same old grind.