Ants Marching

As my last few weeks at my old job wind down, I pause to reflect on why I chose to leave. After all, it's probably one of the best paying software shops in Victoria, I'm generally treated well and my colleagues are terrific. If I wanted to write software for the rest of my life, that'd probably be terrific.

I the trouble is, I don't. The idea of doing the same thing every day for the rest of my career never sat well with me. I don't want to be an ant.

And all the little ants are marching
Red and black antennas waving
They all do it the same
They all do it the same way

I don't want to just exist. I want to live.