The simple joys of boring, painful, impossible manual labor

Feb 14, 2007 12:47

Yesterday, about 9:30, I started getting really edgy. I hadn't left the house all day, I hadn't taken my medicine (read, fucking nuts), I was getting hyper and irritable, and I desperately needed to do something active. So I decided to shovel my driveway.

The weather was absolutely foul. I had slush up to my ankles. The whole driveway was covered in ice that the shovel couldn't break through. I kept banging my hand on the shovel trying to crack it and made no progress. All the while, I realized that there was more snow on the way and I would just have to do it all over again. I think I made about 2 feet of progess in half an hour.

That said, I felt better than I had all day. There was something wierdly zen about the sheer uselessness of it. I got to think alone, while getting excercize and unleashing my agression on a shell of ice that wouldn't budge no matter what I did to it. I went back inside, having done nothing, but I was so much happier than before.

Screw college. I want to be a construction worker. And I want to be given the shittiest, most difficult useless jobs there are. And I'll be happier than everyone.
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