A unified theory of fucks

Here’s what I’ve learned: if you give your fucks to the unliving—if you plant those fucks in institutions or systems or platforms or, gods forbid, interest rates—you will run out of fucks. One day you will reach into that bag and your hand will meet nothing but air and you will be bereft. You will realize the loss of something you did not know you ever had. But if you give a fuck about the living, about all your living kin in all the kingdoms, they will give a fuck right back.

I’m working on figuring out what to say here about what I’ve experienced during my job hunt, and a big part of it will probably include something to this effect.

I think I have been “out of fucks to give” for a long, long time. Several years now.

Over the past few weeks, I’ve mostly been reconnecting with family, friends, and connections I’ve made over the past 36 years.

Those meetings have started to give me my perspective back and figure out what to give my love and focus to.

There’s a metaphor I heard a while back about imagining your relationships as bank accounts. You need to deposit into these accounts with time, love, and care before you can make a withdraw.

Maybe imagining “fucks” as the currency is how I can make my metaphor more visceral.

(An aside: Much like Chris Glass (the chap who shared this link first), I try to avoid swearing here, but I’m not entirely sure why. It’s not like I’m a vigorous swearer in private, but I do enjoy deploying a swear like a good chef deploys seasoning: sparingly, and always to enhance the overall dish’s flavor.)