No More Jobs. Just Stints. It Stinks.

When I grow up I want to be a futurist. That is the coolest job, ever.

However, according to one such futurist, Glen Hiemstra (via this Fast Company webcast) and channeling Peter Drucker, such a job will not be available to me, it will be one stint* among many.

No more jobs.

Instead, a stint here, a stint there. Stints everywhere!

But hold on! Stint as verb means: “Supply an ungenerous or inadequate amount of (something).” Hmmm. I smell something fishy in the world of work, and it isn’t stint frisch

Stint frisch!

*AKA ‘gig’

←This Much We Know.→

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