The Purpose Driven Life

If you were to ask me what I had done in my twenties I would have to reply, "Nothing.  Nothing at all."  What I did was go to work, wash dishes, shop for groceries, fold laundry and sweep the floor.  That's it.  That is life.  For people before me it was get up, milk the cows, feed the goats, churn the butter, change the diapers.  Day after day after endless day.

I really do not understand the point of all this.  Where does one find joy in doing the same damn thing every single day?  What purpose does it serve other than to survive or help others survive?  If all we're doing is surviving, what is there to living?

I'm not saying each day should a magical time at Disneyland, but I do not understand why we were put on this earth for such redundancy.  What purpose does that serve?

In spite of my views on the purpose of life in general I can say that my life serves more purpose than some others.  For some, their daily redundancy is to get up, take the pills, make sure the TV doesn't get up and run away, drink some beers, fall asleep.  Not only do I know people that take to this daily behavior (and enjoy it) but I have them IN MY FAMILY! 

On the one hand I think, "Why do you get to be so lazy and zoned out while I go off to a job I hate?"  On the other hand I think to myself, "Well, at least I am contributing to society and am only 15 pounds over weight instead of 150." 

What good does any of it do?  There seems to be no point to any of it.  In the past, you worked the fields until you were dead.  In today's American society you work to pay your bills that never end and then you die.  Surely, there is no parade.