The Hardest Job for Me

NaBloPoMo asks today:

“What do you think would be the hardest job for you to do?”

      I didn’t even have to think about this one!!  I could never ever do what my husband does, never in a million years!  He is an over the road truck driver who hauls flat bed loads.  Although I would love to see the countryside like he gets to I would absolutely HATE not being home for a month.  I would miss my family entirely too much.

        Another factor that would make me a bad candidate for truck driving is that I am completely hopeless at backing up a vehicle.  I can not back a small vehicle to save my life let alone an eighteen wheeler.  It freaks me out. I am the person that will park a mile away from where I am going so that I can pull through to a space that I can easily pull out of.  When I was learning how to drive my dad suggested I practice parallel parking in the driveway.  So I got in my car and prepared to back into the space that was between his Ranchero and my mom’s Mercury Marquis.  I backed up and took out the side of my dad’s Ranchero!  It was one of those “Oh $hit” moments I will never forget!  My dad came running out of the house waving his arms yelling for me to stop!  After that he didn’t think I needed to “practice” any more and eventually insisted that I park in the yard where I could easily turn around far away from his and my mom’s vehicles.  Eventually he had a turn around asphalted in the front yard of his house specifically for my benefit.  When I finally went to take the driving test for my license the driver’s examiner told me specifically what to do to guide my car and parallel park.  Because of this, I passed the test.  He must have sensed that I would never handle it on my own!

        Besides the fact that I don’t do reverse well, I realize there is a lot of hard work involved in hauling flatbed.  My husband has to climb up on loads taller than his truck and balance his a$$ on the wind in all kinds of weather while he tarps.  I could never do that!  I would be terrified I would fall.  While I used to climb around on the heavy machinery my dad hauled when I was a kid, that was a whole different ballgame compared to the steel or whatever that is stacked a mile high on his trailer.  Not only does he have to climb great heights and balance, he has to be able to hurl heavy tarps over the top of the load to the other side so he can tie them down.  I can just see me completely exhausting myself and never accomplishing that feat or spending the whole time gazing in horror at what I am expected to do and thinking to myself “You have got be $hitting me!”

        The last little tidbit which would rock my world if I was an over the road driver would be the paralyzing fear of getting lost and of being surrounded by traffic on every side.  I find that very claustrophobic.  I can do it, but I drive through big cities with a death grip on the wheel literally $hitting bricks alternating between praying and cussing.  While being the wife of a truck driver can be a lonely life, being a truck driver gone all the time would be much worse.  Just you and the road as the time passes and minutes turn into hours, days, and weeks.  It is a lonely life and not for everyone.  I would be so home sick!  While there are times when I would love to have a job and travel all over creation like my husband, I am much better off at home and out of trouble until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.

 

Working

     NaBloPoMo asks today: 

 "Do you enjoy your current job?"

     This fall I was hired by the school corporation my kids attend as a cafeteria sub.  The worst part of the job is that I rarely get to work as I am a fill in.  The times I have worked, I have found that there are different aspects of the job that I love and other aspects not so much.  When you think about it though if a job was all fun and games it wouldn’t be called work and they wouldn’t have to pay you to do it.

      My favorite part of the job is when I am asked to work in the kitchen.  I love chopping up foods, preparing massive trays of food, stocking the salad bar, and serving to the kids.   I even have fun washing the dishes.  The school where I had the pleasure to do this had a huge sprayer that I used to spray off the trays and dishes, and a monster size dish washer that takes the dishes through on a conveyor belt.  I have to admit the garbage disposal freaked me out a little as not only is it loud but it erupts like a volcano when you first turn it on.  It scared the living be Je$us out of me until I got used to it!  I wish I had a set up like that at home.  I might actually enjoy doing the dishes. 

       Cleaning goes with the territory and also is part of the job.  I don’t mind washing down tables or mopping.  Sweeping around the chairs and tables is a pain in the a$$ but must be done.  I have only had to deal with trash duty at one of the schools and I can tell you it was a nasty, disgusting business my life can go on without.  Once I revealed to my doctor that I was having to heave ho full trash bags almost bigger than me up 4-5 feet over my head into a dumpster, he about had a cow.  With my heart condition, he forbid it and put me on restriction.  No great loss in my opinion except that it makes the times when the schools call me few and far between.  

        Another great aspect of the job is the flexibility it offers and the ability to work, make some extra money, and still be there for my kids when they need me to be.  You just can’t get much better than that until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.

The Ideal Job

      If I could instantly wake up one morning with all the qualifications and training I needed, I would probably want more than anything else to be an artist.  Not just any artist, but an animator.  I would like to be someone who could easily work for Disney bringing magic alive on the big screen.  It is a pipe dream I have had since I was a little girl.  The ideal job for me would be freelance and something I could do from home so I could be available for my kids as they grow up.  I would want to work in computer animation  on movies or in television.  If I am allowed to dream, I might as well dream big, right?  

 
 

      This is the very first job that came to mind when faced with NaBloPoMo’s prompt for today.  What can I say?  There is still a small smidgeon of a dreamer left in me that everyday reality hasn’t quite beat out.  I don’t dwell on it.  For years I buried my art supplies in the back of the closet leaving my dreams in the past.  Recently I was overcome with the need to see if I could still draw at all. It had been so long.  I grabbed a sketch pad, dusted off my old art bin, and drew a couple quick portraits of my kids, just for $hits and giggles.  

       To my amazement, the lines flowed easily and my heart soared.  I had forgotten the fulfillment I felt from my art.  It came easily back to me.  I wondered why I had given it up at all when it was something I had enjoyed, lived, and breathed for so long.  Why did I let that part of me lay dormant so long?  Thinking back, I think that at that time of my life I emotionally could not focus on anything but the upheaval I was facing with my divorce and my mother’s death.  It was too much.  Creatively, I shut down.  Life was just too intense to add the pressure of perfecting a portfolio that would be my meal ticket to the equation.

        At this point in my life, I have found the perfect creative outlet in my writing.  After my mother died, my creative outlet shifted to music and I played the piano for hours on end perfecting my technique.  It filled the long lonely hours after work until bedtime perfectly.  I lost myself in the music, much as I lost myself in my art before that.  It was a fair exchange.  Finally, my creativity manifested itself in writing and essentially I delved into becoming an artist of words. Who would have thought it? So, my dream job would find me doing something creative.   Being creative has always been easy for me.   One day, I hope to be able to fill my days doing all three, but until then I will stick with the writing and dabble occasionally in drawing because it comes so easy and is fun until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.

Taking Charge

Welcome to day 4 of BlogFest 2012!  Thank you Stuart of Stuart Fish.com for today's writing prompt:

 “Will you take charge of your life?”

      Twelve years ago I gave birth to a beautiful baby girl.  I vowed to quit my job and give my daughter all the attention and love I could and to be there for her 24/7.  I left my job of 6 years to become a full time stay at home mom.  During that time of wiping butts and snot noses, an abundance of hugs, kisses, and tears my life drifted along.  Around the time my daughter was approaching the moment to leave the nest for kindergarten I got knocked up again and my son joined the family.  I couldn’t see not giving him the same amount of devotion, so I remained at the status quo.

       In 2009 I began writing online.  I was still at home but now my life seemed to find purpose beyond my kids.  I wrote and that satisfied me for a long time.  Then I turned the ripe ole age of 44.  Pre menopausal hormones reared their angry head and I started to wonder if this was it for me.  I began to get a little restless in my own skin and seriously began considering getting a job.  It had to be part time, and it had to be a job I could do and still be available for my kids when they needed me plus line my pockets with extra cash. 

      I checked out the school website for positions and found some openings available in the cafeteria.  I grabbed the bull’s balls and on a whim filled out an application.  To my shock not only did they call me for an interview, but at the interview they hired me on the spot as a sub.  Well, hot damn and happy day.  I hadn’t expected that at all.  When they called me for the first time to sub at one of the elementary schools I was happier than I had been in a really long time.  I actually enjoyed it.  A couple weeks past and I wasn’t called again.  I felt like I really didn’t have a job after all.  When I had went in and applied for a job I figured I would be working daily if they hired me.

         Instead of sitting back and waiting, I once again took the initiative and called the lady that hired me to find out just what the hell was going on.  I told her I was looking for a job I could go to every day.  That is what I had in mind.  If they didn’t need me, why hire me?  We discussed my computer skills and my past experience in running a cash register and my desire to learn their system if need be.  Seconds after we hung up the manager at the school I now work at called and told me to come to work, each and every day, for as long as I wanted to.

        Along about this time I was diagnosed with hypertension, began treatment to lower it, and was put on a strict diet in the hopes of dropping the pounds I had put on with my pregnancies and never lost.  I was told I was just like my Dad and was diagnosed with heart disease.  Considering he suffered from heart attacks and died of a stroke, I was given a wake up call.  I could keep on the way I was and prepare to die, or take charge and change my destiny and live.  With two young kids, I chose to change my destiny and live.

        So yes, I am taking charge of my life.  I am eating healthier than I ever have, working and getting paid for it, plus still a very active mom in my kid’s lives.  On top of that I am crazy enough to challenge myself to blog each and every day.  My life is structured and has more purpose than ever before.  Instead of selecting a hole to put myself in, I am out here living my life and doing everything I can to take charge of my health so I can be around for a while.  Instead of safe in my little cocoon I have burrowed into over the past 12 years, I am out in the mainstream meeting people and mingling and having one hell of a time as only I can.  

      Nothing in life worth having is easy.  Getting used to working and not sitting on my happy a$$ all day long writing, reading, and commenting has been a major life adjustment, but I am doing it.  I will do it.  I want to do it, and let’s face it I have to do it.  I gave up art when my mom died in 1993.  It was a passion that drove my life up until her death as much as the blood pumps through my veins.  Recently I picked up a sketch pad and some colored pencils and realized to my shock not only could I still do it, I liked doing it, and I am still pretty good at it.  I made the decision that slowly but surely I would work towards devoting more time to draw into my life.  I am in control and taking charge, and I am happy about it until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.

Surprise Me!- BFF 218

     Lately I have experienced a certain level of unease which I think stems from all those pre-menopausal hormones swimming about.    After almost 12 years of being a stay at home mom, I got a notion to get a job. Both of my kids are away at school each day leaving me very much to my own devices.  After being out of the workforce for so long, I was literally scared $hitless to apply anywhere.  What if no one wanted me because I haven’t stuck my nose out of the house for 12 years?  What if they hold that against me?  With a husband on the road more than he is not, I had no prospects for a sitter.  I also didn’t have the money to pay anyone to watch my kids for a few hours.  Let’s face it, isn’t that exactly what I wanted to guard against when I quit work all those years ago?  Trusting a virtual stranger to raise my kid for me while I worked hard for the money?  Still I was compelled to try.  

       I took a real hard look at myself.  At 44 years old, what exactly do I have to show for myself?  Two well behaved, polite kids who are talented and smart, check.  A fairly successful website where I write all the crazy a$$ ideas that dart around in my noggin, check.  Well $hit the bed, that about sums me up.  Let us not forget the fact that I am always broke, always wishing I had money, and recently realizing that it wouldn’t kill me to venture out my front door and give getting a job a try.  Rejection would sting, but it wouldn’t kill me, and I had been pretty content for the last 12 years.  I knew continuing on as I had been wasn’t going to be that big of a hardship.

        One day I was on the school corporation’s website and seen that they had position’s open in food services.  Translation, they need help feeding the kids, cleaning, taking out the trash, and helping the little ones open ketchup packets.  I put two and two together and thought “That isn’t rocket science, hells bells!  I could do that!”  I threw the possibility out to my husband the next time he called me and he asked me “Do you really want to do that?”  I thought about it, and I thought well why not?  What would it hurt?  I have no experience in food service, but I have been cooking and cleaning round the clock for my own little household for almost 15 years.  What did I have to lose?  I filled out an application and turned it in.

         The waiting began.  Once school started and my phone had still refused to ring, I gave up hope.  I reasoned that if they didn’t hire me, I was no worse off than before.  The same ole same ole would continue.  I would write, read, wipe my kids noses and a$$es, catch vomit on occasion, and be mentor, companion, and personal tutor as I always have been.  Still it nagged the hell out of me that they hadn’t called.  So finally I called them and expressed my interest.  I WAS interested after all.  The hours were ideal; I would be home for my kids whenever they were and when they needed me most.  I reasoned that no matter what it paid it had to be more than what I was making sitting at home writing blogs, cleaning house, and keeping on top of the never ending mountain of laundry.  The kind lady on the line assured me that no, the position was still available; yes she did have my application, and then verified my phone number.  I found myself saying almost verbatim “You don’t me, and this is crazy, but here’s my number, call me maybe!!!” 

        The school surprised me.  Not only did they call me in for an interview, they hired me on the spot as a sub, someone they could call when someone needed a day off.  As a sub, they took my “call me maybe” literally!  They also assured me that if I decided that I liked the work, I could move into a permanent position.  Being a sub I could go to any of the seven schools in the district to do basically the same thing.  I would be flexible.  I could still write to my hearts content.  I would still be there for my kids whenever they were home.  For me, it is a win-win situation.  So opens a new exciting chapter of my life where I  still am a writer, still a mommy, and bonus…I have a real job until next time I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.

Stirring the Pot- Writer's Post Blog Hop #47

     I often wonder how people work at the same company doing the  same job for umpteen years.  They stay in the same pot doing the same ole same ole through the good and bad, through thick and thin, and even through sick and sin.  These same people are the ones who do their job everyday with little if any complaint.  They rarely miss a day.  People like this never stir the pot.  They stay where they are and may even have savings in the bank.  Excitement rarely finds them, and it matters little if they can not pay their bills today, because by tomorrow they can.  They plod along doing the best they can.  They are faithful and dedicated. They hate change. They are the ones who are celebrated for achieving long tenures of service.

      Then there are others that after a very short time in the grand scheme of things gets the urge to stir the pot. These folks are always looking for something better.  They have no patience for when things naturally slow down.  They don’t roll with the punches.  They get pi$$ed off over imagined slights and instead of stay where they are and ride out the storm they are always looking for more money, more opportunities, and a better lifestyle.  It is always someone else’s fault for their woes, and instead of speaking up and stirring the pot in a productive way to bring about change…they stir the pot, shake up the mix, and move on to somewhere where the grass appears greener, but once there after a year or so they realize it is time to stir the pot once again.  What once looked like the ultimate suddenly becomes pi$$ poor and they move on again.  Eventually time runs out and the retirement years are upon them and they are screwed.

        Where simmering in one place for years on end brings rewards in the long run, stirring the pot and bringing about change continually may keep those long term goals forever out of reach.  It also can bring regret. Some people like chaos, and some thrive on constant change.  Some continue to plod away doing the very best they can only stirring that crazy pot enough to keep the contents from burning to the bottom.  Nothing in life is perfect.  No matter how often you stir the pot, there is always the chance that whatever you keep stirring will back fire and turn to $hit regardless.  Of course, there is the off chance that with patience and endurance the soup that is your life will turn out to be better than you ever imagined.  When all else fails, all you can do is turn the burner off, take a deep breath and get out of the frying pan, pray for guidance, and wait for answers to come until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.

I Quit! BFF 184

      The job I quit with righteous indignation was the one that I have never regretted leaving.  At the time I was a cashier at a specialty butcher shop that also offered bakery items and a full service deli.    The hours were long and except for the boss being a nit picky tyrant, I enjoyed it.  The customers were high end with lots of money to spend and always polite and kind.  I enjoyed the interaction with the public and my fellow co-workers.  

        My boss loved to put a person on the spot, and humiliate publicly if possible.  He would come up and bag groceries and make rude comments in front of the customers.  I honestly grew to hate the man.   When I went to the interview, he hired me on the spot failing to mention what my pay would be.  I was shocked to discover I had taken a $2.00 pay cut when I went to work there.  I learned the hard way to never take a job unless I knew things like that up front .  

         It was normal to work 10 hour days with no breaks.   His idea of a break was allowing me to eat or drink at the register.  There was no break room, and no such thing as true 15 minute breaks or lunch hours.  At one point he even accused me of stealing a Christmas wreath that happened to disappear on a day when I wasn’t even working.  Evidently whoever was working forgot to take it in at night and it was gone by morning.  The other cashier who had been working always spent entirely too much time in his private office for him to ever blame her.  I refused to do anything like that. It wasn’t in either of our job descriptions, but she was afraid of him and did his bidding.   She was trying to pay for college plus an apartment and needed the money so felt she had little choice.

        It had been tradition in my family for years to spend a couple days over New Years in Merrillville, Indiana with the Oak Ridge Boys.  We would buy our tickets and make our hotel reservations around the first of August and plan for New Years months in advance.  I had asked my boss several times over the course of July if he foresaw a problem with me having the time off as long as I worked every single day until then.  He told me “No, of course not.  Write a note and post it to the bulletin board in his office so he wouldn’t forget.”  Relieved and happy, I made plans and spent the money.  My family bought concert tickets for all the shows for the duration which  equaled 6 shows and made reservations for a hotel room.  It added up to quite a large chunk of change.  I counted the days in anticipation and continually made certain my request was still on the board.   The day before New Years Eve, my boss came out to the register and threw my time off request in my face telling me he needed me to work all weekend.

        To say that I was livid was an understatement.  The following day was New Years Eve and I was scheduled to be there despite my long standing plans and the money invested.  The next day dawned  frigid and cold.   As fate would have it the locks on my car froze up, and then my car refused to start.  I called in and told him of my dilemma, and he told me to call a cab.  If I was a minute late he would dock my pay.  At that point, I had enough.  I told him to take his job and shove it up his a$$ and to have a Happy New Year without me.  I went with my family to Merrillville and brought the New Year in with style.  

        I never regretted quitting that job.  Eventually karma caught up to him because OSHA discovered he didn’t have a break room and didn’t allow his employees any breaks from the job.  They shut him down until he built on to his establishment to make room for a break room and forced him to treat his employees fairly as mandated by law.  I am sure he never was accused of sexual harassment, but he should have been.  In the end, goodbye says it all.   I went on to bigger and better things and never looked back until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife. 


 What bad experiences have you had on a job that forced  you to quit?