WORK

Be careful what you ask for. As for me, I've always been afraid of the 9-5 work week. It's not that I'm lazy and don't want to work (OK, it's not that I'm super lazy and never want to work) it's just that I've always thought that work was a means for getting some money together so I could enjoy my life. It seems like we have lost the idea that life is rich and multi-layered and fun and an exploration for learning and growing...like a field trip for the soul. "OK everyone, you've just been born so get your things together and get on the bus, and don't forget your lunch bags...we're all going to planet Earth this lifetime...should take about 70 years, so if you need to pee just go ahead as we all seem to have diapers strapped to our asses." I rather like that analogy. It beats the current paradigm of life as a shop-a-holic frantically rushing through a Wall-Mart on December 22nd. At the risk of sounding like a Chicken Soup for the Corporate Wage Slave book I'll shut up. I'm just saying that when I work day in and day out I get that glazed look of subdued panic in my eye and wonder ...isn't there more than this? DRIVEL!!!
It's pathetically awesome. I love sitting here at "work" listening to myself whine and moan about things most people have dealt with a long time ago. Or at least they buck up and do what they need to do to feed their family. I am so spoiled and so privileged to be able to "blog" about how much I don't like to work. As a kid I often heard how Bryner (my last name) rhymes with whiner. Hmmm, those kids were pretty astute.
So I have asked the universe/god (who in my head sounds like a British James Earl Jones) to NOT be a 9-5 wage slave but make money in a more creative way. So I'm proud to say that now I'm a slave to my credit card debt and oh, the freedom that I get from that is astounding. I chuckle at how I once worked 40 hours a week. I feel so much more free than my friends who say, "Oh, I'd love to go on a walk with you but I have to work." And I casually and in a sly knowing way say, "you mean it ISN'T the weekend?" What I am trying to say is that I'm an idiot. Freedom isn't free. I saw that on a bumper sticker between an NRA sticker and a support our troops sticker and always thought it was a comment on how we have to kill other people so we can continue to shop and drive unabated. Now I really know what it means. Freedom costs 9.9% (minus the air miles) and at the rate I'm going into debt about $150 a month in interest fees. 'Cause here's the part I forgot about. If you chose to work a whole lot less you actually have to spend a whole lot less. Dammit!! Math was never my forte'. You see, I'm not the sanctimonious snob I appear to be in this blog. I buy crap. I am a consumer and as much as I'd like to seem "evolved" both spiritually and ecologically, I'm a hypocrite. I am conscious of my actions and try to limit my impact on the earth but let's be real. Anyway...
I'm sitting here at "work" this morning looking out the bay window at the almost-full moon shaped like a dropped melon, shining on the oily black waters of the Puget Sound less than 30 meters away. Across the channel are the lights of Vancouver Island and Victoria. I can't hear a sound in this darkness and I'm rested from a full nights sleep. It's the end of my shift. Without any details, I get paid to be on standby. Thirteen hours of night shift and I can sleep when I want with a pager on. So NOT working the 9-5 gig means that I juggle. I juggle 4 jobs that have hours all over the map and yet it seems like I still have a lot of time off to spend getting deeper in debt. I'm also an EMT and even though it is technically a volunteer position it has its benefits...like all the Raisinettes/M&M's/Kit Kats (the perfect trifecta of chocolate treats) you can eat. I also am working at a spa in Friday Harbor as a massage therapist. I know, I know, and before you get all freaked out let me say there are no nail techs or eyebrow specialists anywhere to be seen. It's all about the healing environment and not so much the pampering of the rich and spoiled. There's nothing like a good massage to get you back into your physical body and out of your busy monkey-mind. And lastly I'm back in the ER working 12 hour hell shifts running non-stop to pay that credit card bill down a bit. An added bonus is that the ER will provide hours of blogable material (I thought I was messed up) when things get a bit dry around here (yes dry, like the second half of todays blog). The nice thing about the ER is that it is only on-call. There is something so powerful for me to be able to say, um, "NO" when the hospital calls and asks if I want to work today. It's funny but I often say yes...there is just a bit of breathing room there when I have the option to say no. In many ways I wish I could just be happy doing the 9-5 thing like so many others seem to be. The water cooler thing, the discussion of last nights episode of American Idol, the cubicle with pics of the kids etc. I'm getting an upset stomach just writing about it!
Sure, I know I'm crazy, absolutely nutters. Aren't you too?