Several of us from the old days still have to wrestle with the grim reality of attending each day and the constant stress of putting up with people we don’t like and trying to keep our patience intact while working in an industry which is rotting and dying certainly doesn’t make the working week an enjoyable one at times.
I have worked in my job for 26 years. A hell of a long time and considering I am only 43 years old it has certainly had a big impact on my life.
I often think about all those who have traipsed through my orbit in that time and sometimes wonder where they are now, how they are surviving and whether or not their working lives are any more enjoyable now than they were in the days of yore when their waking hours were spent with us on “Desolation Island”.
Workmates are a funny lot. There are not too many who you could call real friends although their is always a cadre of folk who you see regularly outside of work but really, colleagues flit in and out of your life all the time but only a few special ones stay in contact after they have laid down their tools and moved on to pastures anew. I am lucky to have a few of them still in my life.
It has often been noted by some who regularly read this blog that I am contemptuous of my employer and I should move on and try my hand at something else. The work is boring and dull and those who run the show are not the most skilled practitioners of labour management and as I sit here most mornings the dread of attending for another eight hours washes over me like a tidal surge.
That being said, there are times in the evening after the powers that be have gone and our supervisor holds total command over his domain, that we settle in and have a laugh while we work and there are a few feelings evoked deep down in our souls which could well pass for contentment and enjoyment in another context. We work hard and take some pride in what we do.
In this short window things aren’t so bad and we momentarily forget that there is world outside turning day to night and history is moving ahead without us as we grovel our way through the day’s chores.
So, things are never as bad as they seem and even when we feel the dream is becoming a nightmare it pays to step back from time to time and count our blessings.
Life is good and the trial of working for eight hours a day is a penalty I can accept in order to live my comfortable life. For now, in this moment, I am content. And happy.
Have a nice day.
Strange Notations From a Laborious Life 