Wednesday, June 2, 2010

The Cost Of The Work

I have always had a problem with how much work things take. There is always something wrong, some demand, some contortion, some party line that is beyond my capacity. This is not true only when I am in some kind of fascination. If I am fascinated, then things are worth the effort because the effort is “effortless”. I was never able to just take a college course. I had to want it. It was amazing that I passed those required courses in the first two years even with “C’s”. When I left school behind, I had bits and pieces of several majors because I was only taking courses I could get “B’s” and “A’s” in. Even so, I could never take a full load: 12 credits max, never 15 or more. I often would only take one course in a term because there were no more available that I could stand.

When I finally got my career job I was incredibly fortunate or else it was designed by the Divine to suit me. I almost didn’t qualify. I knew it at the start. I worked really hard, trying to make the grade and almost didn’t. My six month review hinged on changes that occurred in the last two or three weeks. I made it and have held the same kind of job over thirty years. There is something about it that overcomes the malady that I suffer in most areas of my life. I really have to reach down deep inside to even vacuum floors, unless there is some compelling reason.

There’s a reason that some of us are alcoholic. This sort of thing is mine. The world just costs too freaking much.

The Cost Of The Work

After raising moons
I drink gallons to replace
the fluid that steams
from me, rising up
to then coalesce, become
overhead tidal
objects with craters,
more than one moon any time,
otherwise too much
work is in this dance.

June 3, 2009 12:48 PM


  1. I've heard of calling down the moon, but here you are, raising moons. Me, I just garden.

  2. I am sure you are a superlative gardener.

  3. Finding work you love is unfortunately a rarity. When love and work are wedded, the results can be beautiful.

  4. Welcome my son, welcome to the machine.
    Where have you been?
    It's alright we know where you've been.
    You've been in the pipeline, filling in time,
    Provided with toys and 'Scouting for Boys'.
    You bought a guitar to punish your ma,
    And you didn't like school, and you
    know you're nobody's fool,
    So welcome to the machine.

    Welcome my son, welcome to the machine.
    What did you dream?
    It's alright we told you what to dream.
    You dreamed of a big star,
    He played a mean guitar,
    He always ate in the Steak Bar.
    He loved to drive in his Jaguar.
    So welcome to the Machine.

    Pink Floyd

  5. I wouldn't go that far with my work. I am just grateful that it was specialized enough to eventually pay a living wage rather than a struggling wage. In the early years, we were DINKs, double income, no kids, but we were not making that much money. Later we began making that much but we were already in fair debt. Still later the household collapsed through illness and this led to divorce. By then I was making a living wage on my own, but not enough to recover for the loss.

    My work has been interesting enough to allow me the latitude to do the right things to keep it. I have been able to do it steadily. Recently however, my health has got in the way and I worry that I will not be able to work much longer. This is too early financially. I am going to be in trouble. Keeping my lifestyle comfortable is going to be impossible. Continuing to work is no longer completely my decision.

  6. Ghost, hello!

    Thank you for Pink Floyd.

  7. "There is always something wrong, some demand, some contortion, some party line that is beyond my capacity."

    Sad but true in my experience. I went into the ladies restroom last week just prior to our weekly managers meeting. I suppose I was running a minute late. Suppositions proved correct when my boss peeked his head in the restroom and called my name. WTF? Cost too high indeed. But for now, I need the job.


The chicken crossed the road. That's poultry in motion.

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