Lifting the Load - Essay

     I have the same recurring dream.  I've had it since I became the drywall subcontractor.  In the dream I'm sitting on a beach with a pint of Guinness in one hand and as Ashton cigar in the other.  I sit and watch all the people go by, the biking clad leggy super model-ish women, and the men who play volleyball or throw a Frisbee near the water.  But, it's more than just watching; there's feeling that I belong.  In the dream I am one of the beautiful people living the good life.  There is no worrying about where the money is coming from.  No traffic, or deadlines.  No juggling of which bills will get paid, and which ones will have to wait till next month.

     Drywall is a very boring and repetitious job  It's up at six every morning, and home by six or seven every night.  In between there is the mind numbing, body breaking work itself.  You cut the sheet rock to fit on the wall or ceiling, lift it into place, and hammer a few nails in to secure it.  Later, you'll go back and screw everything off,  all the while sucking down a seven layer burrito of dust.  In a nutshell that's the physical job.  The other half of the job is listening to the builders.  Who, although have not finished getting everything ready for you, still insist that the sheet rock be up bright and early yesterday morning.  There is always a section of the house, which cannot be done, either the plumbing, electrical, or framing has not been finished; or something hasn't been inspected, or it needs to be changed.

     Above and beyond this, most of the other people you meet on the job are disillusioned middle-aged white men, who spout our racial slurs like children eat candy.  They believe that whatever they are doing at the time is the most important thing to be done that day, and they don't care who it inconveniences when they do it.  Luckily, I work with a good friend, and he does most of the talking, leaving me free to ignore most everything that's going on around me.  However, he's also the reason why I haven't quit doing drywall yet.  I am still looking for that better job.

     Work, any work, used to be a point of honor with me.  I started working early in hopes of achieving financial independence, so I could buy all the things I wanted without having to ask permission.  At around age eleven I would mow people's lawns or rake leaves on the weekend.  From this I evolved to my first real jobs.  I worked as an assistant to a vet, mostly I did menial tasks, moping and carrying out dead animals to a large freezer in his garage.  I worked a large verity of labor, maintenance, and window cleaning jobs up to and throughout high school.  After which I continued to work full time until I entered the Marine Corps.  The Corps, was the first job I ever had which was not physical in nature.  Being an MP was ninety percent mental, although I liked the aspect, I did not like the authority wielded and so I left the service.  Since then I have held a multitude of jobs before ending in drywall.  All of them having there good points and there bad.

     My father was forced to work early when he was just a kid.  At seven, he would go to work after school for hours, returning home to give every dime he made to his father.  When I was young he would get up every morning and go to work.  He would be the first one to arrive at his office, and a last one to leave.  He has done this for over 30 years.  Now, as an unlicensed architect with 30 years experience, my father finds himself in the undignified position of being outdated.  All of his years of hard work have not paid off for him.  It has not kept him from being laid off during slow years nor, as it kept him from having to take drafting positions that are beneath his ability.  Nearing his retirement my father finds himself making less than almost all of the peoples his hard work has put through college.

     I know the dream is just that a dream and will never be a reality.  However, I cannot help but to think that an easier life is out there.  It's been said that the job makes the man, I hope that's not true.  I would like to believe that I have the ability to work with something other than my back.  That there will come a time when I can be proud of what I do.  My job will not only be my means of support but something I enjoy doing.  Because, I think that's the key to happiness.  If you enjoy doing something you will be a success at it and be happy.