I Did What?: My Sordid Job History, Volume 7

The cattle were lowing, and making more manure.

It was only my first day of high school and I was sticky with sweat, my brand new sneakers were ruined, and I smelled like manure. Not to mention that I had cried my eyes out no less than two times, my parents had left me to fend for myself, and my prospect of getting friends was dim, considering I smelled like manure. Home seemed too far away to dream about, and my sister was pretending not to know me. Yes, my high school career started off with a bit of a bang, you know, like most people’s. And I remember it like it was yesterday, even though it was 23 years ago.

See, I went to a boarding school in mid-western Pennsylvania where they practiced what they preached. It was all about helping god help you, or something like that. Which meant that even thought the tuition to attend the school was larger than a golden goose egg, the school made sure all of its students worked to help lower that tuition. They were called on-campus and off-campus jobs, and they were not all created equal. Needless to say I got the worst possible job, in my opinion, working on the campus farm.

When we arrived at school on the Sunday before the first day of school, my parents had no idea what job I was going to picked to do, but I had high hopes. I wanted to work in the administration building, maybe answering phones or cleaning floors or something. I thought that job would be possibly even fun, but when we got up to the work assignment table in the gym I was hit with the truth. In the state of Pennsylvania, as a 13-year old there was only one on- or off-campus job that I could legally perform. You guessed it: the farm. As soon as they told us, I was so shell-shocked that I just stared down at my brand new white sneakers purchased specifically for a new school and a new attitude for me. I knew they were toast. Continue reading “I Did What?: My Sordid Job History, Volume 7”

The Somber Sea

This too shall pass A keening in my soul Flagrantly imprecise Yet bold as ice Transfixed by nature The cycle unchanged As fluid as a fire Raging in my savage soul But failing all this A work of art Splashed on the page In black and white Grey intoxicants Cruel inhalation Haggard and dry Broken … Continue reading The Somber Sea