So, what do you do? A lot of people ask me that.... I'm here to tell you that and probably a WHOLE lot more. That's my blog. More than you want to know right? :)
So over the weekend a good friend jokingly poked fun about me not doing my share and how a little manual labor wouldn't hurt me. Well, unfortunately that little poke hurt more than they knew so I'm here to explain why. Why it hurt me so deep, and why I am constantly freaking out about my job. OH and by the way I'm not here for people to feel sorry for me, I just want people to understand when I get pissed about comments of this nature...
I have a strong work ethic. My father has always taught me to be a hard worker. I grew up on a farm, feeding calves and gathering eggs at age five and six. When we moved off the farm and to Salt Lake City I was lost. I hated it there. I missed Nebraska with everything I had and would cry to go back "home" all of the time. When we finally moved back my Dad went through hell trying different jobs and it was horrible for our family. He finally did find the right job and started at the bottom of the totem pole and worked his way up. He never called in sick, he worked graveyard shifts, he worked his ass off. He did what it took to support his family. Work ethic. He taught me what it meant to work and respect your job and be thankful that you can live in a country where you can be free to work for a wage and not forced to work like a slave.
I started working at age 11 and have not stopped. When I was 11 I worked harder than some adults do now! I worked in the corn fields. A lot of the people out here don't even know what rougeing or detassling is but it is damn hard work. You get your ass up at 430 in the morning every morning. INCLUDING Saturdays all summer long. And you work out in the corn. For the first half of the summer you carry a hoe with you through the fields and cut wild corn and dig out weeds. The second half of the summer you detassle. Sometimes it is raining. Tough shit. Sometimes you are walking through mud. Too bad. Sometimes you are walking through stinky, irrigated rows that are moldy water. Oh well. You get corn rash, you get corn cuts on your face and neck, you get sun burned and dirty, tired and sore. It's manual labor alright. More than a damn 11 year old should probably do that is for sure. I did that until I was 15 because I couldn't get a job anywhere else legally.
During the summers when I was 13 and 14 I also mowed yards in the evenings for the elderly and disabled and got paid by the State of Nebraska. Sometimes the old ladies would give me a five dollar bill to fill their bird baths or extra money to mow the weeds by the flower bed because they knew there were snakes in that garden. I did this on top of detassling. (two jobs at age 13 and 14 in case you lost count)
When I was 15 I had my first real job. I took on Salad Bar Prep and Table Busser at Dowd's in Alda! OH those days were fun! It was seriously one of my favorite jobs. I kept that job until I was almost 17. While I worked there I also worked at Valentino's. (yep 2 jobs again)
After working 2 jobs at once for those years and once I started really getting involved in stuff in choir and boys (lol) I started working one job and went to ITI. Telemarketing but man it paid well! During the summer of my junior year I worked at the hotel in Wood River and then I took it on Full Time after my Senior Year and started up 2 jobs again. I just couldn't give up the money. Well pretty soon I started getting burned out on working so much and started blowing off the good job and got myself fired for the first time ever. I was heartbroken. What an idiot! I thought for sure my father would kill me but at least I had a backup job :)
I tried to go to college but that just didn't groove with my work schedule. I was working way too much to go to school so I had to quit about a year and a half in. I tried to work different jobs in college to make the school schedule work but I just couldn't do it and pay my bills. I wanted my new car too badly and I wanted the money. I just couldn't part with it. My job was too important to me at that time.
Every job that I have had I started at the bottom. I am only 35 and have already worked for 24 years with probably 8 months off total in that entire time. I was never given a job without applying for it and fighting for it. I have worked hard for everything that I have. When I was laid off from Aurora I was devastated. I worked hard to get to where I was. I earned that position dammit. I didn't know what I was going to do. I was scared and lost all at the same time. Now I have this job. My job at housing. Starting at the bottom, again. Who knows where it will go. All I can do is go in every day, work my hardest and see where it leads. When I get home I am DOG ASS tired. I worked HARD all day. It is not an easy job. If you all see the word government in the job, don't assume it is easy. I don't even want to eat when I get home. I just want to sleep. All the time. I don't want to deal with my kids, my bills, nothing. BUT I do. If you see me sitting down for three minutes, don't give me a hard time just give me a break please. I feel like I deserve it.
Now. On to this part. YES I can take a joke. But, sometimes jokes hurt. We ALL know that. Sometimes you just have to know why right? So, that's my story. That's my job... that's been my job. It feels like forever.
Well written. I get it.
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