We could be immortals

My dad loves his job. He loves every part of it. And he loves it in such a way that he doesn't have to sacrifice family, and yet he is still able to devote himself 100% into being the most awesome professor of architecture ever.

My dad will (and has) dropped prepping lectures and powerpoint slides the moment the garage door opens and my mom yells out that one of the kids is home to visit. Sure, my mom needs to yell for him to come eat dinner maybe three or four times, but he always comes and eats with us. And when he does, he's not preoccupied or sitting in paperwork. He's there, engaged in knowing what is going on with us, engaged in the dinner conversation, engaged in being there.

He's a pretty good dad.

And even though my dad is so old he could technically retire, he doesn't want to. And he doesn't allow himself to get complacent, to get comfortable. He never teaches the same course twice, which means he's constantly learning himself, to find out more innovative going-ons in architecture so that he can in turn pass it on to his students.

My dad is pretty cool.

And every time I'm driving myself away from the family home back to my husband-home, I find myself in awe of just how happy my dad is with his job. This is what people dream about when they think about their dream job.

So does that mean that my job is not my dream job?

I find myself rationalizing a lot when I'm stuck in traffic. I love my patients...mostly. I like the complexity that every case brings...mostly. The parents are tolerable...mostly. The paperwork is manageable...mostly.

And then I'm struck by the words I'm using, and how quickly shift from positive to the negative.

The thing is, though, I really do love what I do. But I definitely don't love it the way my dad loves his job. I can't figure out how to motivate myself the way my dad is motivated to constantly strive to do better. I'm happy when I get to come home, flop on the couch, and watch lame marathons on HGTV. My dad is happy when he can figure out some new assignment that will pull together all his different abstract learning points.

I think part of it is that my dad is a pioneer and one of the leaders in his field. Whereas, I am still very much a trainee, whose leadership potential dwindles and fades with each passing day. And this is willingly, knowingly. Is this an excuse? Is this my way of quietly accepting my future tedium? My inconsequential-ness?