(no subject)
Did a guy at work a favor today. He wanted me to help him pick up a bedroom set from the furniture store and take it back to his house. I had to company truck, so I said okay, I'd help. I waited at the furniture store for an hour after work, sweaty, dirty, hot and tired, before he arrived clean and changed, with a friend. He was an hour late. He said he appreciated my waiting that long, which was considerate of him, but it would have been more considerate if he had said to go home first, get yourself a shower and a change of clothes, and meet him in an hour.
So I was mad. But I couldn't really stay mad, you see. Dude left work early to go get set up, and he was buying a lot of furniture because he's about to get married to his girl who just came from Thailand to be with him. And he really did need three pickup trucks, and his other friend who he had to go get a favor from. And he bought me a drink and offered me dinner, and proudly showed me his home. Earlier that day he taught me how to fix a knife that I had borrowed from someone else and subsequently broke.
So he's a good guy. He's strange to me, and his Filipino/Deep South accent is incomprehensible, and until today I was never able to tell if he was fucking with me trying to be funny or being a nice guy and trying to help out a greenie. Today he asked for a favor and showed me his home.
Which gave me a little perspective. I should stop grousing about how hard it is to go to work every day and come home exhausted and cranky. This guy has been doing it for twenty-plus years, and clearly works harder than me, and then he has to put together a pain-in-the-ass bedroom set. Or pick up his jet-lagged fiancee. Or go to the post office. And he's a happy dude; he's just a regular dude and he has lots of energy.
It's really nothing to work nine hours a day. Sweat isn't a big deal; neither is dirt, or bugs, or boredom. Work is work, and when you're done, you're done, and you can do whatever you want. I should be exhilirated that I have four hours wide open after EVERY SINGLE WORK DAY to do nothing at all but sit around at home.
I'm clearly still a kid.
That having been said, a desk job would be swell.
So I was mad. But I couldn't really stay mad, you see. Dude left work early to go get set up, and he was buying a lot of furniture because he's about to get married to his girl who just came from Thailand to be with him. And he really did need three pickup trucks, and his other friend who he had to go get a favor from. And he bought me a drink and offered me dinner, and proudly showed me his home. Earlier that day he taught me how to fix a knife that I had borrowed from someone else and subsequently broke.
So he's a good guy. He's strange to me, and his Filipino/Deep South accent is incomprehensible, and until today I was never able to tell if he was fucking with me trying to be funny or being a nice guy and trying to help out a greenie. Today he asked for a favor and showed me his home.
Which gave me a little perspective. I should stop grousing about how hard it is to go to work every day and come home exhausted and cranky. This guy has been doing it for twenty-plus years, and clearly works harder than me, and then he has to put together a pain-in-the-ass bedroom set. Or pick up his jet-lagged fiancee. Or go to the post office. And he's a happy dude; he's just a regular dude and he has lots of energy.
It's really nothing to work nine hours a day. Sweat isn't a big deal; neither is dirt, or bugs, or boredom. Work is work, and when you're done, you're done, and you can do whatever you want. I should be exhilirated that I have four hours wide open after EVERY SINGLE WORK DAY to do nothing at all but sit around at home.
I'm clearly still a kid.
That having been said, a desk job would be swell.