Busy, Busy, Busy
Working feels good. I fucking love being employed. I almost never like the tasks I’m charged with, but feeling like a productive member of society and enjoying the perks of this status is a deep requirement for me to feel like a whole person. It’s more than satisfying in a lot of ways, because being an adult is satisfying. No one tells you what to do, you simply commit to actions that will have the best outcomes for whatever it is you’re trying to achieve. I would never go back to being a kid, I don’t take adulthood for granted at all. Yes, it’s hard. It’s always hard, all the time. Sometimes to the point of making me feel like I’ll break under the pressure. But I’ve become accustomed to it, I use that pressure to feed into my actions and give me energy.
I have to leave for work soon. No, it’s not the most glamorous job I’ve ever held. It’s dirty, grimy, fast-paced, hard, and at no point fun. But in this economic climate- it’s a job. That alone says volumes for my situation compared to hundreds of thousands of others who aren’t able to say the same. I’m not even permanent yet, but I imagine I’ll get a spot in the company. It’ll just take time, effort, and hard work. I’m willing to put in all of those until it pays off. I also can’t stop looking for a job that will allow me to pay off credit cards and live independantly. Needless to say, this job (even at permanent) pays four or so dollars an hour less than the last job I had. I require more to live, so I’m required to keep looking until I find adequate work.
Well, I think I’m cutting this rant short tonight. I’m going to enjoy the fifteen or so minutes before I have to rush out the door and start my day.