Job

I looked at the series of RIM buildings when I was passing by them while dragging my tyre-flattened bike into school. And the hundreds of cars in the parking lot. Everything here started from a guys' idea. And on the bus to Conestoga, I watched how many other business buildings are operating in the small town of Waterloo: Where do I fit in this highly-organized chain of various businesses and jobs, all connected together so vitally, directly or indirectly, to make the flow of life possible. And there were buildings of residence, into which the workers of those businesses building get back at night to make babies and to, again, make the flow of the life continuous. How can "having fun" be the mere objective of one's life if this dynamic existence of mankind evolves beautifully as such?