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..."You can't always get what you want."

Pleasant surprise: I did not die on the way home from a party tonight, despite not hydroplaning requiring prodigious attention. Unpleasant surprise: my car was making a clicky grindy noise while I was skilfully not dying. Because I cannot contemplate the cost of repairs without wanting to curl into a foetal ball and whimper, I contemplate something else instead: money. Yes, it's a bass-ackwards way of going about things, but bear with me. I'm moving soon, into a real, grown-up place that will have vaguely coordinating furniture and will not have a roommate in the conventional sense of the word (I believe my relatives back in the old country would call it "living in sin." They're Irish Catholic). Six months after that, I finally leave school to seek gainful employment like a real adult should (Though I've learned college is a waste; I hope for maybe $7 an hour while everyone who didn't go has mad cah. But I'm getting ahead of myself). I've realized that I'm not actually the kind of person who needs to work, though I thought I was for a while. What I really am is someone who wants to be able to do things when I am not at work, and for that time to be as large as possible. Were I to win the lottery, I would parcel it out sensibly just to avoid ever needing a job again. Some people get bored sitting on their asses all day, I dream of it. It's not that I'm lazy, it's just that I don't really have a categorical imperative to push buttons or haul fried food or pack boxes. This might change if ever I have a job that pays decently and requires some high school education, but I don't hold my breath on that front. I've been trying for months and since I will not return to restaurants, I'm still trying. Anyway, I digress. What I want out of a job is money. I'm not saying this to be materialistic, I'm saying this because money is freedom. Think about it: you have enough cash, you can go anywhere; it's mobility and ability possibility all in a small plastic chip. I've been in a desk for 18 years straight now, never having a damn thing to call my own, and all I want after spending an evening with successful, free people who get to take vacations is a chance to do it too. I'd like it if my car making a strange noise were not cause for nervous collapse. I'd like to be able to do things. Pretty modest as aspirations go, but something I can't seem to get. So instead I sit here grabbing at abstracts to distract myself from a bad situation that never seems to improve no matter how hard I try. I suppose that what law school will be for, but another four or five years can feel very long sometimes. And I find myself wondering if this is just me, if I'm the only one who sees it this way. So I'm going to pose a question to all of you:

What do you think freedom is? What's the real value of work? Would you work if you didn't have to? Why, why all those answers, why any of it?