Just the other day, I was trying to explain to a friend about a concept called the “Inverted Doughnut” proposed by Charles Handy, in which he attempts to explain the significance of a core and a non-core set of activities in any work/life situation.  The model can be applied to understand a variety of situations, and is worth a read.  Among other things, it also explains how some people seem to enjoy their jobs almost like it was fun, while others seem to dread getting up every morning just to go to work.

Tim Carvell writes in Fortune :

When we were small, we had dreams. Big dreams. We were going to be astronauts. We were going to be rock stars… Our lives would be full of wonder and adventure: We would pull rabbits from hats, we would cure fancy diseases, we would marry royalty. Every night of the week we would don formal attire and go to yet another ceremony, at which we would win prizes and in our acceptance speeches make gracious yet pointed remarks about our childhood nemeses, who would seethe quietly with envy.

Yes, well. So much for that. In fact, we grew up to become office workers. It’s probably for the best, really. Better benefits. Less risk. More reasonable hours.

Still, just because you work in an office doesn’t mean you’ve forfeited the right to have fun. Maybe your job provides its own daily doses of excitement—perhaps not fighting-off-a-giant-squid excitement, but excitement nonetheless. Or maybe you’ve found something to do in your downtime that you’re passionate about. And if you’re really lucky, maybe your job and your passion are one and the same.

Hugh Macleod offers an interesting explanation in his post “The Sex and Cash Theory” :

The creative person basically has two kinds of jobs: One is the sexy, creative kind. Second is the kind that pays the bills. Sometimes the task in hand covers both bases, but not often. This tense duality will always play center stage. It will never be transcended.

A good example is Phil, a NY photographer friend of mine. He does really wild stuff for the indie magazines- it pays nothing, but it allows him to build his portfolio. Then he’ll go off and shoot some catalogues for a while. Nothing too exciting, but it pays the bills.

Or geeks. You spend you weekdays writing code for a faceless corporation (“Cash”), then you spend your evening and weekends writing anarchic, weird computer games to amuse your techie friends with (“Sex”).

It’s balancing the need to make a good living while still maintaining one’s creative sovereignty. My M.O. is gapingvoid (“Sex”), coupled with my day job (“Cash”).

I’m thinking about the young writer who has to wait tables to pay the bills, in spite of her writing appearing in all the cool and hip magazines…. who dreams of one day of not having her life divided so harshly.

Well, over time the ‘harshly’ bit might go away, but not the ‘divided’.

Personally, I have always strived to find work assignments that I am passionate about, not just those that offer good money. I sincerely believe that all the skill in the world, or the education, cannot compensate for sheer will-power and passion in one’s work. 

For some folks, though, it might be just easier to take up a job that pays the bills and find “meaning” and “joy” from outside the sphere of work. As Macleod said, “This tense duality will always play center stage. It will never be transcended.”