Work! Work! Work!

the word 'work' holds no excitement. 
work, in itself, is a very boring concept.
i don't like to go to work.
but then, who does?
come to think of it, what is work, really? if it's a simple means to make the money to sustain the things we, indeed, like to do, then work is, in effect, that something unsavory that you just have to do to be able to do better things like waste time doing nothing or write poetry sitting on your windowsill, pen held in one hand and a sheesha pipe in the other.
so, although what you'd love to do is just listen to pink floyd and forget all about the world, you still go to office, sit in front of a machine and tune your boss out; daydreaming most of the time. sometimes, you do get something done and people are so shocked that they immeditely give you a raise, a  promotion, a new porsche - whatever it takes to make you stay, because hey! you, at least, performed once!
ok well, maybe that was an exaggeraton, but really, what is work? and why do we all work?
what if all of us just called a strike? What if, one day, every single able-bodied/ minded person woke up and decided to not go to work? would the economy collapse? would the businesses shut down? would we eventually just run out of things, essential for living?
now, as i'm writing, i am thinking, what if the doctors said the same thing? or nurses and dentists? the gas company employees and the water department? then we'd just slowly starve and die of stinking armpits and unwashed feet.

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