I wanted to hotrod and play with cars. One silly magazine I read had an article about how automotive paint was a dark art few ventured into. So I started with that in my teens. I did about everything one can do with cars. I worked with heavy equipment for awhile just to get a bunch of welding experience, then went back to painting cars but doing bigger jobs and repairs. Eventually I did not like the state I was in so I started cycling to hotrod me. The cars started fighting back as more and more of me was lost without need to carry me around. One day commuting to work, two scrappy SUVs teamed up against me on a bike. I killed them both, but the broke my neck and back. I guess I wish I had not read that article... I have never really thought of work as a means to an end per say. I cannot imagine staying motivated by that. I am not the type to go along with bullshit or do what I'm told. Give me a responsibility and I'll do a far better job than anyone else and eventually I'll become the back office manager the owner trusts completely. I hate managing people. No task is beneath me. I do not care about narcissistic nonsense from myself or anyone else. I do what needs to be done and others are welcome to do the same around me. Those that do not are none of my concern. I am the employee I wished I could find when I ran my own business... or at least I was. Now, I am a shell of my former self, with 8 of my 9 cat lives spent.