WinRAR of Existence
"I just turned 33, work in IT, and I feel like I’ve wasted the last decade waiting for my ‘real life’ to begin. I’ve been bouncing between jobs, relationships, hobbies — but nothing sticks. Am I too late to do something meaningful? Or am I doomed to be this flaky forever?"
Dear Admonister,
I just turned 33, work in IT, and I feel like I’ve wasted the last decade waiting for my ‘real life’ to begin. I’ve been bouncing between jobs, relationships, hobbies — but nothing sticks. Am I too late to do something meaningful? Or am I doomed to be this flaky forever?
Please admonish,
– Perpetually Meaningless
𝔇𝔢𝔞𝔯 Perpetually Meaningless,
Ah, you’re still running the trial version of your life then? You’re like the WinRAR of human existence — extending your trial period one existential crisis at a time, unwilling to accept this has been the full version all along. You're still making up excuses to avoid putting your money where your mouse is.
You bounce in life because you 'swipe left' every time it asks for personal growth. With each rejection, you think you're refining your search for meaning, and keeping your options open. But really, you're eager to find fault in every experience so you have an excuse to reject it, before it exceeds your comfort zone and demands investment, sacrifice and growth. Were you in fintech in 2008? Because you repackage rejection excuses better than subprime mortgage debt.
Meaning is not playing 'hard to get' — you're the one ghosting it. When you come close, you move the goalpost — so you never have to commit to anything slightly meaningful and can never fail.
Despite feeling rushed, you tell yourself there's still time, because you have a grand strategy to resolve the daily absurdity of living a meaningful life in a meaningless universe.
Your audacious strategy is to wait for answers. Let's get this straight. Your parents had a good night one time, and nine months later the universe delivered... you. Their reward was eighteen years of legally binding care and a few framed drawings. And you think the universe owes an explanation to you?
You're not late. You're not doomed. You choose this — over and over and over. You choose to be too scared to embrace your agency.
You don't find meaning; meaning finds you — after you mustered the courage and energy to take charge without it. Meaning isn't empowering — it is the unhelpful notification your battery has run dry during a black-out. Meaning isn't a program you install — it is the spyware slowing you down and selling your identity. Meaning isn't a feature — it is the missing documentation of your ex-colleague's abandonware still running in production.
Meaning — have you tried turning it off and on again?
