This weekend, I spent an entire day installing a low voltage lighting system (from IKEA) into my living room. This involved a large amount of exhausting work, including crawling in a hot, filthy attic to run electrical wiring and install a ceiling mounted transformer. I also had to cut a portion of the wall out in the living room above the light switches to access the electrical box knockouts and fish the wire more easily (I had fishing tape, but didn't have to use it). Some molly screws and suspended wiring finished the installation, and a rather swank looking room ensued. This is a similar system, although I have different lights on mine: As I waited in line for breakfast this morning, I was looking at that famous picture of of men working on a skyscraper in New York during the thirties. The mens' job must have been both exhausting and nerve wracking. My work the day before was simply tiring. Imagine performing punishing physical labor all day (these guys are working with steel I-beams) but having to remain mentally aware at all times, or plummet to your death on the street below. I don't think safety ropes were too popular; in the picture the men are eating lunch on the middle of a beam. There's not even a temporary platform for eating. All this makes me even more aware of how easy my job is. It's insanely easy. Sitting at a desk, typing on a computer, looking out the window occasionally. Granted, there is a certain element of ennui associated with it -- a lack of satisfaction from the inability to produce durable and physical differences in the world. But that may not be true, I can't see people using the result of my work but that doesn't mean it's not useful. My vantage makes it impossible to ascertain either way. One day I'll be able to compare careers. It's only thirteen more years before I start teaching.