I was doing occasional work for a furniture company that did warehouse sales. I got in with them five years ago. It was part-time, but it was my first real live job after coming off Lyme Disease. If I could survive their big sales in the Florida heat, I could do anything.
It was a measure of Finnish SISU (strength – chutzpah – balls) to be able to walk the length of that aircraft hangar more times than I could count. I was proud that I could power on smiling as others – older and younger - fell into sweaty piles on distant couches, far from management eyes.
It was a measure of Finnish SISU (strength – chutzpah – balls) to be able to walk the length of that aircraft hangar more times than I could count. I was proud that I could power on smiling as others – older and younger - fell into sweaty piles on distant couches, far from management eyes.
It was like a Turkish prison except they made us wear heavy waffle-weave company shirts instead of rags and fed us pizza instead of gruel. The owners sat among the gaping boxes in the A/C, of course.
The last time they called, I freaked. I knew I couldn’t do it anymore. Put a fork in me, I’m done. I passed some ominous milestone that said “if you go, you will wind up face first on the concrete and bust your nose into teensy pieces.”
The last time they called, I freaked. I knew I couldn’t do it anymore. Put a fork in me, I’m done. I passed some ominous milestone that said “if you go, you will wind up face first on the concrete and bust your nose into teensy pieces.”
I said “yes” but I prayed God would give me reason why I couldn’t follow through. I don’t pray for myself very often, but I was scared.
God always answers the important ones. Sure enough, I got a big freelance writing gig – a rush project. I sent a nice email that I’d received an emergency project and they understood.
I think I’ve served my last time at the warehouse. They were adding salespeople to the floor; we were lucky if we made $10/hr.
Still, I needed something to fill in the gaps. In October I didn’t get any projects until the last three days of the month. I panicked. Be careful what you wish for.
Still, I needed something to fill in the gaps. In October I didn’t get any projects until the last three days of the month. I panicked. Be careful what you wish for.
I wished for a part-time job to supplement my freelance writing gigs and omigod, how exhausting my first day was. I came home at 5 and crashed until morning. Maybe I was coming down with something and it’s just now passing, or maybe I have a brain tumor and will be dead by Tuesday or maybe I’m just getting old. For real.
In my case, 60 was the magic number for holy shit. Harder to get out there and exercise, harder to walk 60 minutes instead of 30, harder not to make myself a big bowl of buttered popcorn before bedtime, and way harder to look in a mirror. In the old days I would be considering plastic surgery. Now I can only aspire to Botox.
The most important thing anyone ever said was “the harder I work, the luckier I get.” So my luck should be pretty good because I have SOME type of income-producing work do every day. The variety is pretty excellent and I’ve been writing high-profile Harley-Davidson ads. Not for local dealers, for the corporation. It’s through the agency, though, and I’m not sure which ones get approved. But writing those ads is the most fun I have.
My neighbor followed my example and applied for part-time work at the outlet mall. I told her she HAD to get the job, she looked sensational. She’s tall and thin and she dressed to the teeth that day. Sure enough, she landed the job.
The older I get, the more grateful I am. This little job could see me through some very lean times. My neighbor seems to be getting more demanding after all the hard knocks. At first she was afraid she wouldn’t get the job, then she complained about the starting wage and wondered if they would let her wear the clothes.
The older I get, the more grateful I am. This little job could see me through some very lean times. My neighbor seems to be getting more demanding after all the hard knocks. At first she was afraid she wouldn’t get the job, then she complained about the starting wage and wondered if they would let her wear the clothes.
I wanted to say “who would want to buy clothes you’ve worn?” but I kept my mouth shut. If she says anything to management, she will set the tone for possible future employment.
Pffft. Not my problem. If she screws herself out of that job and has to leave, I’ll have a new next-door neighbor and that could be for better or for worse. We shall see. Whatever.
The holidays are everywhere already. I would like to go north and be with family, but writing gigs and part-time job come first. What boomer can refuse any kind of work at this age in this economy. We have a responsibility to – at best, be able to help our family members; at worst – to take care of ourselves physically and financially so they won’t have to worry about us. Because they do.
Pffft. Not my problem. If she screws herself out of that job and has to leave, I’ll have a new next-door neighbor and that could be for better or for worse. We shall see. Whatever.
The holidays are everywhere already. I would like to go north and be with family, but writing gigs and part-time job come first. What boomer can refuse any kind of work at this age in this economy. We have a responsibility to – at best, be able to help our family members; at worst – to take care of ourselves physically and financially so they won’t have to worry about us. Because they do.
Hopefully I will be too tired to cry from loneliness at Christmas. I did give one friend up north cartes blanche to come down and stay as long as she likes. I know she’s having problems with her husband and doesn’t want to talk about it. She said my invitation meant “more than you will ever know.”
She thinks I don’t know, but I do.
My “g” spot is the “g” as in “grateful.” Grateful to love where I live, that my family up north is all in good health, that my critters are happy and well cared for, that Bodhi’s eye infection healed, that Bobby the Cockatoo isn’t plucking and that I have work coming in. Grateful that my writers group is a lot of fun, that my book is coming along, that I’ll be a little less lonely with the part-time job. I do enjoy people, especially tourists.
There will be a time when I will be forced to “not be lonely” – when my mother will need me to be there for her and I will have to freeze my ass off 9 months a year in Bumfuck U.P.
Way effing grateful.
My “g” spot is the “g” as in “grateful.” Grateful to love where I live, that my family up north is all in good health, that my critters are happy and well cared for, that Bodhi’s eye infection healed, that Bobby the Cockatoo isn’t plucking and that I have work coming in. Grateful that my writers group is a lot of fun, that my book is coming along, that I’ll be a little less lonely with the part-time job. I do enjoy people, especially tourists.
There will be a time when I will be forced to “not be lonely” – when my mother will need me to be there for her and I will have to freeze my ass off 9 months a year in Bumfuck U.P.
Way effing grateful.
