Why Did We Stop Having Fun? | Fat Dough Conversations #005

21 hours ago

3 min read

I disappeared from the podcast for almost a month.

My day job got hectic. Overtime crept into weekdays and weekends. Cookie orders came in. There was baking, recipes and everything else that somehow decided to happen at once.

Every week, I told myself:

“I'll record the podcast next week.”

Then another week disappeared.

And it made me realize something.

The podcast started because I wanted to talk. Fat Dough started because I loved cooking. Baking started because I enjoyed it.

But when life gets busy enough, even the things we love can start feeling like another obligation.

And that got me thinking:

When did we stop doing things simply because they're fun?

When Fun Didn't Need a Purpose

For everyday life, we behave as though there's one giant universal clock ticking away in the background.As a kid, I was obsessed with gaming.

My dad was into computer science, so I grew up around those enormous beige computers running MS-DOS. I still remember playing Lode Runner from a floppy disk.

Then came the Sega Genesis.

Warcraft. StarCraft. Diablo. Diablo II.

I could spend an entire weekend gaming and achieve absolutely nothing.

No money.

No followers.

No content.

No productivity.

I simply had a bloody good time.

And somehow, that was enough.

When Everything Became Productive

Adulthood changed that.

Work. Bills. Children. Responsibilities.

And somewhere along the way, I stopped gaming, collecting Pokémon and basketball cards, building Gundam and drawing Dragon Ball characters.

Today, there's another pressure too.

You game? Stream it.

You paint? Sell it.

You cook? Start a business.

You build Gundam? Film it.

We're constantly encouraged to turn the things we enjoy into something productive.

But why?

Why can't we be good at something that makes absolutely no money?

There's nothing wrong with turning a hobby into a business. Fat Dough itself grew from my love of cooking.

But once money, customers, deadlines, analytics and expectations enter the picture, the relationship changes.

Sometimes, when a hobby becomes work, we simply need another hobby.

Something that owes nobody anything.

Finding My Childhood Again

Recently, watching my daughters get excited about Pokémon rekindled something in me.

I started collecting again.

Then came Gundam.

Then graphic novels and comics.

And yes, I'm a 45-year-old man doing things some people might consider childish.

My response?

Why not?

They make me happy.

I also still game with my youngest daughter every night at 9 PM. We've been doing it since 2017.

I don't record it.

I don't post it.

It generates absolutely zero dollars.

And maybe that's exactly why it's precious.

Not everything meaningful needs an audience.

Do Something for Absolutely Nothing

Collect cards.

Paint.

Garden.

Build Lego.

Make pottery.

Play guitar badly.

Read comics.

Write stories nobody will ever read.

Whatever brings you joy.

We already spend so much of our lives working to pay for everything else. It's perfectly okay for some of our time and money to accomplish absolutely nothing productive.

Sometimes the return on investment is simply:

I had a fucking good time.

Maybe we don't stop playing because we grow old.

Maybe we start feeling old because we stop playing.

Find something that's just yours.

And protect it.