Like many people punching words into keyboards and putting them on the internet, I’m not independently wealthy. I know. Poor, pitiful me. Pity me for I must work for my supper. Cue all the world’s tiniest of violins and serenade me with the most pitiful of songs for I have the saddest sadness. Please, play forever, I’ve earned it with all my hard work. I deserve it. For I work a day job. It’s not a big deal. It’s like any other manufacturing job. Ye olde 9 to 5-er…, well kind of, that’s what this is about.
For the last 3 to 4 years, I’ve worked an off shift at my job. It was designated “the weekend shift” and our working hours are: Friday through Sunday, 5am to 5pm. Working 36 hours a week and the company pays you for 40 for being there all three days, not a bad gig. I originally pitched the idea to my boss after working night shift (3:30pm to 2am), 6 days a week for roughly 9 months straight. Talk about not having time for anything. It was the best way I could think of, at the time, to not have to work until I felt like death and also not have to find a new job. They gave us a trial run and here we are, 4 years later.
Working this schedule has presented some interesting life …umm… complexities? Or challenges? Paradoxes? Shit. Yes! It’s presented some interesting life shit. Moving on.
Having 4 days off a week can be spectacular. You can get so much done, writing, editing videos, playing video games on Twitch or Youtube or even wallowing in self pity if that’s your thing. Sometimes, when your introverted ass does have people that you want to spend days off with, these people work “normie” jobs. Then, the weekend rolls around, people want you to go do stuff but you decline this party and that event or you go out and are barely able to function at your job the next day. And, since you’re a Capricorn, you feel like a piece of shit when you’re unable to give your all to each and every mundane task that someone with more pieces of paper than you (money, degrees, etc.) decrees important. Eventually invites cease to be extended. Also, the woman you’ve been seeing becomes frustrated that she likes you and you’re hella awesome but that you’re too tired after work to do much on the weekends, you spend too much time at work and only want to chill after or don’t really feel like going out. She doesn’t want to go do much of anything either on her work days. So you drift, you “raincheck” or “catch up later” and then it’s over, it’s mutual. However tomorrow, while the rest of the country works, you can go to an empty laundromat after visiting your favorite coffee house outside of peak hours and listen to your favorite podcasts while using every machine in the building if you need to while riding around on the carts between washing and drying cycles. Then you can stop by the grocery store on your way home, be in and out with your full month’s worth in 20 minutes. All while getting the closest space to your apartment when you return. Is that the trade? Is it a good one?
Recently, I was presented with an opportunity to move to a closer – to – normal working schedule of Monday – Thursday, 5am to 330pm. I took this opportunity and have been working my new hours for the last few weeks. The move wasn’t just a change in my working shift. It resulted in me taking on more responsibility (read: more stress) within the company and giving me a chance to further myself (read: spin bigger corporate cogs). I’ve been feeling the pressure to make this move for some time. From not being able to stay at or even attend family gatherings on weekends sometimes to losing a handful of significant others because of the lack of opportunity for spending a lot of time together. I’ve known that a change was coming. I could feel the pain building.
Honestly, it’s weird being out in the hustle and bustle of “Weekend America,” that time that exists when a large portion of the population isn’t working. I witnessed and overheard (despite my headphone podcast listening) an argument in the laundromat over a specific laundry cart. Even though there were 10 other carts strewn about the room, this person felt they had a right to use “the one they always used, the squeaky one.” Then, a separate instance regarding someone’s “washer etiquette” and where they had placed their clothes sent someone else into a tizzy. My coffee house was slammed with so many people that orders got mixed up, some people ended up with the wrong coffee and I proceeded to just leave with my mistake while others decided to instead berate the joe slingers behind the counter. People are currently driving like mad because it’s hot here in Texas and we often drive like shit in triple digits or when there is precipitation of any type.
It’s a little funny the way in which we, as people, become set in our routines, our paths. I’m not entirely sold on my new schedule but we’ll keep moving forward and see where it leads. All the while reminding myself to stop and enjoy my Americano, or someone else’s cappuccino.
Then again, none of this could really matter and it’s all first world bullshit while children are being stolen from their families and locked away at the Texas border. And you can talk about immigration laws being what they are or Democrats doing it first or whatever the fuck kind of dumbass narrative you think is important. But the fact of the matter is, if you support locking up innocent children in cages, you’re fucked up and should seek help. There are better ways of handling this situation than the mass incarceration of babies.
If you are able to help, then please feel free to click the link below to join the ACLU in pushing back against this insane action. Don’t be petty fuckers. This isn’t Anti-Trump, Anti-American or Anti-Republican, this isn’t Pro-Democrat, Pro-Socialist or Pro-Libertarian, this is beyond that nonsense, this is Anti-childrenincages.
Life Resumed 