Wednesday, June 22, 2016

Manual Labor summer

This summer was planned as the summer I did my internship hours as required by my class. As with many things in my life, I would have done it differently had I known better. The thing is, why is it that when I don't know better, my ignorance never benefits me? Why can't that coin toss be in my favor?

The landscaper I agreed to work for now has no work for me. I made $60 this week. I'd approached a farm to volunteer in exchange for exposure to how food is grown, and that's fine, because well, I only go when I want to, and it counts towards the internship. There are landscapers posting for openings, but thanks to raging Carpal Tunnel Syndrome that requires surgery, I won't be applying. I've had one hand done and need to have the other taken care of, and starting with a landscaper just before becoming useless is not good strategy.

The landscaping work has been fine, and I've learned a bit. And for all that it's hard, it's not stressful.  Our job sites are usually very large homes on extensive pieces of land. There is always some part of the land that serves as the place where we dump our clippings, pulled weeds, etc.

One particular property sits on its own hill. This means that when we are weeding along the extensive driveway and street frontage, we have to carry our full buckets up and over the hill, using rudimentary stone steps designed to lend atmosphere. At the top we then must cross to the back of the property, then down to a ledge where the barrels are emptied.

We were doing this a few days ago. It was hot. Very hot. When you work in landscaping, you have to wear long pants and long-sleeved shirts (I was already sporting a couple of patches where I'd hit some poison ivy). So it was hot, I was fully clothed,  and I was toiling up an almost vertical path with a full barrel on my shoulder. When I got to the dumping spot, I decided to make a "nitrogen donation," my clever private term for taking a pee (we can't use client bathrooms, nor would I want to), so I stepped carefully down the steep incline until I was below sight line of the house.

While doing my biz, I stumbled and managed to pee on myself. I righted myself, put myself back together, and went back to work. I thought about it. I was hot, sweaty, covered in dirt, my own urine drying on my leg, and at least two more trips waiting for me and the heavy barrel.

Still better than working in an office any day.

No comments:

Post a Comment