hard labor

by rantywoman

It was a day of hard labor on the organic farm, but I’m so glad I did it. It gave me a glimpse into the life of the manual laborer. Also, I feel proud that at least I’m sticking to my promises to myself during this time off. I hope to get out there at least once a month.

While working, I met some folks straight out of the Paul Krugman documentary, Inequality for All, that is opening this weekend. One middle-aged woman seemed bitter, unfriendly, and bossy initially, but we eventually got to talking. I’ve realized that since there is so much to embitter middle-aged women, I can cut them some slack. Turns out this woman grew up in the area where I worked in Los Angeles. A single mom, she has no health insurance and scrapes by on freelancing. She told me she alternates health-and-yoga kicks with periods of hating everyone. She was interested in my community-college health insurance plan and the coming Obamacare.

A man who was working with us just quit his coaching-and-teaching gigs because he had to spend all his hours with “other people’s kids” and never got to spend time with his own daughter, a toddler.

The woman who stood by me in the assembly line said she recently lost her job after getting in an accident but was able to move in with her boyfriend, who lives outside of the city. She has almost no money but is at least taking advantage of this time “to explore new options.”

Yesterday I received word that I didn’t get that job I interviewed for, and while away today, my roommate moved out. We didn’t say goodbye. It’s good that he’s out, but I’m thrown back entirely on myself again.

Playtime is coming to a close. The job search will begin in earnest in a few weeks. I even applied for a high-level job in a small, provincial, conservative town about an hour away from this city. The pension plan is proportionate. Maybe I could do it and keep my condo so I could spend weekends in this city.

Hard times might require some hard choices.

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