If you think I'm going to work 12 hours a day every day, you can take my job and shove it up your ass.

Too many of my friends work too hard.

They arrive at their jobs early, they stay late, they never sleep or see their friends.

They are controlled by people in suits who could care less about the well being of other beings. In fact, most of their superiors have no idea how hard the underlings are working. And when they find out, they quickly forget.

And it's total bullshit.

So many of my friends have forfeited their social lives to serve The Man and his Machine. A tidbit of info for those friends: the Machine doesn't have enough consideration for your existence to even hate you.

Before my grandmother died, she told me that her greatest accomplishment was creating people. Some would think that a woman's devoting her life to raising children is old fashioned and insulting.

I feel my grandmother had a great point. When I'm 80 years old, no one is going to remember that radio spot I wrote when I was 23. They're not going to raise a statue to me because I won some award. They aren't going to give a hoot about my twenty-something years at some tiny company.

Nope. A very small percentage of people are known by the masses for one singular thing.

What people will notice and what I will be proud of on my deathbed are the lives I created and touched.

And I can't create those lives while I'm filling out spread sheets or carrying decimals in the wee hours of the morning.

In all fairness, some people are out curing cancer. Their life is their work and their work is saving lives. And those people shall be saluted.

On the other hand, my job and most of the jobs that my friends have aren't saving lives. They just aren't. Perhaps through the grapevine, some extra dollar earned through the purchase of some packaged good that was bought because of a poster that was created in a Sunday afternoon brainstorm because someone else felt it would be a good idea to throw in just one more idea ... ... So that dollar gets donated to a church and they get to buy an extra two packages of ramen noodles some some hobo gets to eat on Christmas morning.

Call me evil, but that moment isn't worth the divorces and the drug use and the depression caused by people over working themselves.

So my advice to this generation, my generation, do the nine to five. Get your work done and be proud of it. But don't let it rule you. It's just not worth it in the end.