One of the jobs that I do is definitely not for everyone, and many would consider the work beneath them. I don't see it that way. I get paid a bit of money to do a bit of exercise. All of my life I have been fond of physical labor. When I was young, I worked on a few horse farms and guided trail rides for a few riding stables interspersed with other less fun jobs in factories and restaurants. I started my working life when I was 14. I learned how to ride horses and bought my first horse with the money I made from being a trail guide. It was my dream job and I completely loved it. Now that I am old and pain riddled with these back problems and assorted other joint problems, I pursue other less demanding means of exercise that include payment. I have worked as a janitor at a small local library branch for going on two years, and I completely enjoy it. I enjoy solitude, odd hours, and self management. I am not afraid of a few stinks. Truly, if I was confronted with bar or dirty gas station bathrooms I would hobble away unless the pay was over $15 and hour. Fortunately, at my beloved library the stinks are rare. The branch that is my nightly domain is less used than other bigger branches which suits me completely. I have made modifications of certain pieces of equipment in order to still do things that need doing without having to bend forward repeatedly, and I have a self designed schedule of completion that keeps the dust bunnies at bay. I only have a small hour budget to work with, and I hate working for free. If I tried to do every single thing on my list in one burst, I would be there all night and unfortunately, the money dries up after two hours. There have been times during the past two years that I could barely walk, but I managed to not miss a single two hour night of my little job. No one was around to hear my screeching and cursing in pain riddled frustration, so it worked out beautifully. I have wonderful supervisors. I told them when I was in bad shape and said that if they didn't mind me creeping like a snail, the job would still be done, and I did it. Then I went home, collapsed into bed and gobbled whatever poison had been prescribed for temporary easement that I deemed least harmful and prayed that I would be able to manage it another night. Well, I made it. I lost money on those days, but I kept my position. Better days rolled around when my problems eased and I regained the money I lost on the nights when I was very unspeedy. I have everything organised to accomodate the ways that I have to protect my body, and when I do my job, I am mindful of avoiding positions that will damage my joints, especially when they are misbehaving. I joke with people that I get paid to walk around and wave may arms. The temptation of all the good reads surrounding me is hard to resist, so I work while listening to an audiobook on my phone. The whole empty library gets to hear it too, because my headphone jack quit working. My little job is almost perfectly ethical. I harm no one, mislead no one, and leave a small section of the world in better shape. This means a great deal to me. I consider it my two hours of zen 6 times a week. Driving is a real pain in my butt and I can get to work in 10 minutes. 10 minutes, I can handle. If I had to travel a greater distance repeatedly, I would be begging for anesthesia after a few days and putting in my resignation. Of course, I use the money from my little job to buy things. Who wouldn't? This little job keeps my handmade soap business website going. Do I get recognition and raises? Well, life doesn't have to be all about the money and I care nothing for empty titles of illusory prestige.
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