I feel like I might be coming to the end of the 5 stages of grief. This started back when COVID hit, coinciding with the George Floyd nonsense that lit the BLM fire last year. I was angry, probably the angriest I've been in my whole life. I remember being so pissed that BLM could burn churches without any consequences, but I couldn't go hit a bucket of golf balls on a warm spring day. Seeing how women are treated compared to men today fueled my fire as well.

Now I just don't care about anything. The world is such a mess, and it's inescapable. Unfortunately I'm pretty much fresh out of college, and have only been in my industry for 3 years. The industry I've chosen is loaded with women, woke culture, and illogical diversity hiring standards (hiring incompetent people just to look good). I try to forget about how off base they are and stick to the job itself, and that usually helps.

During my first 2 years of work I was motivated and genuinely cared about my performance and how it impacted the company. Now I genuinely don't care about working the extra hours to look good and maybe have it lead to a better raise. The motivation is gone.

My hobbies even feel dry. Everything is so stale now. I'm on a good track financially so I theoretically should be happy about that, but I'm not.

I'm not suicidal, but if someone told me that no matter what I do, I'm going to die tomorrow, I would be fine with it. It doesn't seem like this world has a whole lot to offer to me anymore. Maybe I'm just not cut out for this world. I feel like Brooks from Shawshank Redemption. Sent out to a world that I don't belong in and don't care for.

Sure, I'll keep working and plodding along for another 20 years and "retire." At least at that point I should be able to do whatever I want and have the financial means to not have to worry about much.

Just feels like a long ways away, with not much excitement in between.