It Doesn't Take Long....

....for work to piss me off.

I'm gone one week for a much needed vacation. I needed that down time away from that fucking zoo.

I try my best to get stuff done. I have no reason not to. One thing I don't understand about my crew is how they like to slack off and then have to hurry up to get work done before the end of the shift. I like to hurry and get my work done so I can slack off the rest of the day.

Today was a prime example. I wanted to listen to the football game at noon so I took my radio with me. I get all my shit together and just a few things to do in the afternoon. I sit back and enjoy the game. Simple.

Then my equipment went down hill after the game. Our equipment is total garbage. Instead of fixing things the right way, the technical staff just hold the place together with spit, rubber bands and duct tape.

I was actually instrumentation and not people that pissed me off. It took two days back from vacation and smoke was coming out of my ears.

On the commute back home today I was thinking hard about my job. I'd never quit and would be devastated if I ever lost my job. Despite all the bullshit, I'm well compensated for it. The only thing that makes my job some what tolerable is the pay and the benefits. If I got paid half what I make, which would still be pretty good money, I'd seriously start looking for another job.

I guess my job is like a drug. I was on the other side of the fence for years. I was a contractor for a few years before they hired me full time. It was a blessing. My pay almost quadrupled and added benefits. As a contractor I was employed by the whim of management. Now that I've tasted the pay of a full time employee I'm addicted. Add in the overtime and I'm hooked for life. There is just no other way to describe it.

Several years ago, in the first few years I worked for Big Mother Fucking Oil Company, my cousin asked me if I was planning on going to grad school. I almost doubled over laughing. The time it took me to get my engineering degree most students achieved their PhDs. I hated school. I hated working hard. I hated classes. My God, if I went to grad school, I'd still be there 20 years later. No I told him. I've reached my peak. I reached the pinnacle of my working life. I'm a lifer.

Jesus, as much as I bitch about the job, I remind myself with this, which few people can actually say: I'm set for life.

So despite all the bitching and moaning about work, I do remind myself that it is a blessing. Especially in these economic times, I do remember that. I have friends who have either lost jobs or took pay cuts. I can't imagine being in their shoes.

I've only been unemployed once. After I graduated, I went almost a year before I landed my first real job. And calling it a real job is marginal at best. Again, I started as a contractor and was making a dollar or two above minimum wage. I received a livable raise after I was hired full time. (Side note: It's also where I met Violet, go figure). After that I toiled briefly in the oil fields and almost went the roughneck route. If you knew me that would be the farthest thing you'd think when you see me.

The reason I started this blog was for therapeutic reasons. That's what I just accomplished. As pissed off as I am, writing has made me look back at where I was in 1995 and where I am now. A long way from scrapping by on $8.25/hour to make what I do now.

The therapy has worked...for a night at least...

Your Blessed Pope,
JP3