The Working World: adapted from Facebook post.

I hate the job.
I hate the hours.
I hate the work.
I have to see straight lines and color variations. I can do neither of those things under the best of circumstances. And they make me wear safety glasses over my glasses -- y'all can maybe guess how exactly helpful it is to have an extra lens over your lenses when already your vision cannot be corrected to 20/20.

Plus my feet hurt, and my back twists (not as part of the job) I have muscle spasms in my back, in my butt, in my fingers. Comfy shoes are against the rules. We must wear steel toed shoes. They aren't too uncomfortable, but 12 hours and concrete floors are hard, even if I were walking on air.
My hips feel as if they are going to just pop out of their sockets, and that scares me.
I spend my breaks in the bathroom so I can just take off my shoes.




I really wish I didn't have to wear the safety glasses. That extra lens has my vision all discombobulated. But they don't have the side pieces to slip onto glasses, and it's unacceptable to buy my own and wear them. I asked.

Of course, two days doesn't equal a fair chance, so I will be going back tomorrow as I'm scheduled to, but I have to tell you -- it's really really hard, and really really painful. I hope/wish they would find me another job. there's too much waiting on the next person or the last person on the job I am doing. It would be much easier if I could stay steady busy.

But I'll keep trying. Who will come and roll me to the car when mu legs won't support me as I roll out of bed one fine morning? I wish we were having the blizzard. But too much rest may be just as bad, so maybe I'll just roll out in the morning and roll on in

Dream it; Do it; Or Quitcher Whining.

My husband is watching yet another reality show about gold mining or fishing or deep sea ice diving (or ice driving) or whatever excuse this bunch of "men" are using as an excuse to not have to live a real life, like the rest of us have to do.

I don't know why he watches these shows. I don't know why anyone watches many of these shows. I think there's supposed to be a "Man against Nature" challenge, and we're all dreaming of ourselves as winning against the impersonal, implacable elements.

But what you hear during these programs is a lot of whining. "Oh we need 35 per yard and we're only getting six. It's all the machine's fault." "Oh no, if we don't find something, I'm going to go to jail for child support. The boss better find us a better place to work; it's his fault this isn't working." And the self sacrificing Valiant "I do this for my kids. So they'll have something. That's why I'm 2000 miles away and unavailable by telephone."

1) Take care of the machine, and don't over work it. It's a machine, dumbass.
2) If you're worried about paying support, get a real job with a regular paycheck in a regular amount.
3) Maybe, just maybe what your kids really need is a father. Ever thought they might like to see you every now and then? They might like to call you in an emergency and have you there in a half hour or two? They might even appreciate a hug or a handshake, depending on age or gender!

One of the gentlemen earlier today was talking on and on about his "Big Dream" of making "THE Big Strike." Then he'll never have to worry again.

We all have Big Dreams. Almost all of us dream of winning the lottery, especially when that old Power Ball gets way up there. We don't abandon our families to chase that dream. We don't spend money they could use for food or heat while we travel to another state to be closer to the winning-ticket-vending places, do we? And blame the machine for not printing us the winning numbers? Or the clerk for not selling us the right numbers? Because we are trying so hard to realize our dream, the failure couldn't be our fault, could it?

(Of course, that could be why we don't get made into TV shows.)

Another Big Dream of mine is to be a published, income-earning writer. If I never become that, though, it's no one's fault but mine. Yeah, there are publishers turning their backs on a good thing, and editors who don't know what they're missing -- but I'm the one who didn't write right enough to attract them. I'm the one who used the wrong approach or followed the wrong path to their doors.

I'm the one who is dreaming big and doing little.

But at least I'm not on national cable television crying and whining and telling the world that I am a big LOSER because someONE or someTHING  is stopping me. (I admit to whining about it amongst my colleagues and kinfolk, but that is a little different.)

There's nothing wrong with dreaming of a gold mine, but you take care of your family first. You handle your responsibilities first.

You get a day job, for those you love, and you pursue your dream on your own personal private time.

Or you make yourself famous for being a loser at life.

The choice is yours.