Sunday, November 29, 2009
The Seven Day Work Week
I know I've said this in the past. I have two jobs. Since the beginning of October I have had, I believe, maybe three or four days where I have not had to be at either job. One of those days was my birthday, which I had requested off, and one was Thanksgiving Day, where both places of business were closed. One other day was the day that my beloved pup had emergency surgery, which was a scheduled workday, but where I called out for personal reasons. I would not consider that a day off. Oh, yes, one more that I would not consider a day off- the day I had an epidural series of spinal injections to relieve inflammation of the spinal canal. Again, not a day off.
A brief perusal of the above paragraph should reveal why I frequently write about labor and health care issues. The two topics are close to my heart, soul, and wallet.
Over the last several weeks there have been days when I woke up and was not sure what day it was or where I was supposed to go. The last time I had this situation was a time in my life when I was holding three part time jobs (and still seemed to be behind in the bills). I was much younger and more energetic then.
It's been difficult to find the time and the energy to write, which is why I have gone two weeks without contributing to this site. Still, at one of my positions I am currently working with a man who is doing a one-man show at the age of 85, seven times a week, two of the days he does a matinee and an evening performance. Ninety minutes of stage time storytelling and singing. No intermission. The man is inspiring me to dig in and work harder.
Six years ago, when I had my spinal surgery, I had another man inspire me. The guy who was rock climbing in Utah, fell into a fissure and got pinned between a boulder and a cliff face, and cut off his own arm to free himself, and then walked five miles to get help. I had applied to the New York City International Fringe Festival to do a one-man show long before the surgery was scheduled. I was not sure if my piece would be accepted. A couple of weeks before the surgery I was notified that my show was accepted. I figured that if this guy could cut his own arm off and then walk five miles I could tell an hour's worth of stories eight weeks out from surgery.
And so, I'm working to find the time to continue to write. I need it as much as I need to walk the dog, to keep my blood moving. To stay upright and out of a wheel chair.
A brief perusal of the above paragraph should reveal why I frequently write about labor and health care issues. The two topics are close to my heart, soul, and wallet.
Over the last several weeks there have been days when I woke up and was not sure what day it was or where I was supposed to go. The last time I had this situation was a time in my life when I was holding three part time jobs (and still seemed to be behind in the bills). I was much younger and more energetic then.
It's been difficult to find the time and the energy to write, which is why I have gone two weeks without contributing to this site. Still, at one of my positions I am currently working with a man who is doing a one-man show at the age of 85, seven times a week, two of the days he does a matinee and an evening performance. Ninety minutes of stage time storytelling and singing. No intermission. The man is inspiring me to dig in and work harder.
Six years ago, when I had my spinal surgery, I had another man inspire me. The guy who was rock climbing in Utah, fell into a fissure and got pinned between a boulder and a cliff face, and cut off his own arm to free himself, and then walked five miles to get help. I had applied to the New York City International Fringe Festival to do a one-man show long before the surgery was scheduled. I was not sure if my piece would be accepted. A couple of weeks before the surgery I was notified that my show was accepted. I figured that if this guy could cut his own arm off and then walk five miles I could tell an hour's worth of stories eight weeks out from surgery.
And so, I'm working to find the time to continue to write. I need it as much as I need to walk the dog, to keep my blood moving. To stay upright and out of a wheel chair.
