In an episode of the consistently brilliant series "Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee", Jerry Seinfeld and Kate McKinnon are riding around NYC in a 1962 Fiat 600 Multipla (pay attention to as much of that as interests you) when Kate says "I find I have the most fun when I'm at something that is horrible because I'm making fun of it and I'm enjoying it" and I'll be damned if that's not it.
When talking about heaven (Presbyterians) a concern I both voice and hear pretty often is "but what if we get there, and it's actually perfect like everyone (clergy, travel agencies, poets) say, that'll be great for all of three days. When you'll have greeted all your loved ones, caught up, met a few historic celebrities, then what? Play easy chess? Eat calorie-less dessert? What's the point?"
Misery is not only better with company, its heavenly. Easily the hardest I've laughed while at college is right after I've been crying, and my roommates have made me laugh until I have new tears by brilliantly parody-ing whatever situation I'm bewailing. Work friends are wonderful because you're united against the labor you're doing and the boss/clients/other coworkers you've deemed the opposition. Mornings suck, which is probably why breakfast is so good. The week before finals is when I got closest with some truly awesome people. Two summers ago my friend (who happens to be brilliantly hilarious) and I went to an "improv" show that sounded cool, underground, and like a great time. The show was an absolute disaster, we spent intermission hiding and trash-talking, and it was no doubt a great time. If you've ever been dragged to an antique store "party", but you got to bring a friend, you know exactly the feeling.
There is of course a happy (or "misery", rather) medium that allows for this sweet-sour spot of struggle, go too far over it and you cross from perfect inconvenience to real misery. If the most fun is a terrible improv show, an argumentative coworker or waking up early, even sobbing in my dorm over my hopes, dreams, and career, the fun stops upon hearing of the death of a loved one, sickness, loss, oppression, violence. These types of misery are undoubtedly made leagues better with company, but they are not and can not be made fun, let alone heavenly. Are there silver-linings? Most of the time, I'd say yes, but not a good time, certainly not a "best time". Not here. That's out of the sweet-sour spot.
I think we do hunger for this medium. It's why places that aren't meant for fun, like work or school, are inevitable playgrounds, depending on your angle and chiefly, who you're with. It's what defines the ideal adventure, somewhere between sorrow and sedentary, neither true fear nor apathy. It's a large part of what draws me to opera, the word for "work" in both Latin and Italian. It's really hard, and you get to 'work' on it with passionate, dedicated co-conspirators to make something extraordinary.
All of it to say, have fun out there kids. I hope you're just a little under-prepared, a little out-of-your-league, a little in over your head, but I hope your company is a lot of lovely, I know mine is.
