Secret Lives of Others

Have you ever noticed that you don’t really have any idea what it is that your friends do at work every day? 

No, really.  Think about it.  Go through your list of friends in your head and then one by one think of what they do for a job. 

 What have you got?  I’ve got a list of teachers, a disability support worker, a couple in advertising, an editor, a filmmaker, a couple of designers and a shoemaker.  Now, I have a general idea of what most of these jobs entail but I have NO IDEA what they mean on a day to day basis.  Lets have a look at an example.

I can’t really picture what my friend the magazine editor does during his day.  Like, does he have an office or just a desk?  Is he surrounded by people in grey cubicles with pictures of kids pinned to the dividers or is it uber cool like the slicked up glam of “Ugly Betty”?  What sort of a reputation does he have with his work peeps?  Is he a hard ass boss or is he quiet and approachable?   What do editors do anyway?   Is it a lot of typing or a lot of reading?  When you’re having a stressful day as an editor what does that mean?  What goes wrong?

 No idea. 

 It’s like they’re living these whole other secret lives.  They get to be this whole other person for 40 hours a week and I have no idea who that person is.

 People from Canberra are even worse with this.  Canberra is the land of public servants, and when you ask Canberrans what their friends do for a living they just shrug and say ‘they’re in the public service’  (or sometimes they say  ‘they’re in the public service.  And Kel’s a fireman’).   But when you press Canberrans for more details like what department do they work in, what role do they have, where does their skill set lie you just get a big ol’ blank stare like it’s the first time they’ve encountered the idea that ‘public service’ doesn’t actually mean anything on its own.  

They don’t have a clue.

 What is my point? I don’t really have one. I just think it’s interesting that on the one hand we have our friends and our family who presumably know us better than any other people in the world, and then on the other hand we have our jobs that we spend more time doing than anything else in the world.

 But our friends don’t know what we do at work.  Like anarchic hand syndrome, the two hands are not privy to each other. 

Anarchic hand. Creepy.

Basically what this translates to is that our friends don’t know who we are, what we are doing and who we hang out with a majority of the time, yet we consider them to know us the best.

 I think that’s weird.  That’s all.

 But anyway, now you’ve been let in on what I do during my secret work life.   I wrote this post. 

 Happy Friday!

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