It's damned shame mind you, that the jobs I have are needed.
I drive a truck for a legit non-profit picking up good day-old food and clothes etc etc from various venders. The spoils of my day are then sold for pennies on the dollar (of the vender's retail) in our "markets" to people approved by various agencies who fall under a few categories.
People suffering from mental health issues and therefore not fully employable.
Recipients of social assistance (various reasons here...don't judge until you buy a lunch and LISTEN)
The aged with no physical means of support.
Poverty striven substance addicted people.
To get the likes of good bananas at 25 cents a pound or 9 grain bread for 80 cents a loaf...beautiful!
We offer support, council, direction....
This job is far better for me than working as a number in a vague machine creating profit for some removed fat cat at the top of a corporate food chain.
This is street level, gut squeezing real, hands on front line work. I LOVE IT!
Weekly, I drop off a gorgeous food hamper at a resource that is in exhistance for desperate sex trade workers in various stages of mental anguish and addiction.
When I walk in there and greet those women, my heart quickens. Dope steals your youth and working in the sex trade dulls your soul. I wish I had a magic wand. No personal wealth...just safe relief for so many of these women I see regularly.
I drop off a huge loud of food at a men's rehab. These guys are sobering for me. Theres 29 steps from street level up to their space and the men cart my wares up them. Some of these guys can't manage the heavy burden of anything more than a 12 pack of soda. Stop and ponder that.
During my week I also see gorgeous, healthy women in the prime of their lives. The mental gymnastics I must do is dizzying.
I bid fare well to a fit, healthy, attractive European dancer who's under 30 and 17 minutes later I'm with desperate drug addicted women her age and younger. That's a mind fug if you like!
I divide 400 pounds of carrots and apples between 4 different elementary schools during the week.
This gives me great joy! (after the mental gymnastics remember)
The patience of a Music Teacher with 20-odd 10 year olds singer worse than I do is surreal! She always has a smile and a wave regardless of the sound of these brilliant songbirds.
And the joy on the faces of the very little kids when they get to glue glitter to their art project. THIS, is breathing deep!
I'd be amiss to not mention Ray, Gerald, Paul, Clayton, John, John and Steve in this post. These are the men that are not far different from me that sleep outdoors or in shitty SRO's in East Vancouver.
I look forward to chatting with these guys. Nothing to prove, nothing to lose. Seems like a nice life in all honesty. No clocks. No bills. No agendas.
Today...for lunch, I was able to pass on a care package to a gaggle of hippies that are opposing something that I fully support them in. Talk about LOVE, gratitude and heart warming smiles!
I've nothing to moan about!
Yeah, truth is that I'm on meds for depression. I lose focus too often, forget the good and get pathetically sad! I misenterpret stuff that other humans say which leads to a spiral of the ol' "woe is me's" But I reiterate, I really have nothing to moan about do I ?
So, here I am tonight, in my home after 16 hours of work that nets me just under $230 but our bills are paid and I didn't exploit anyone earning it!
My conscience is clear. I'm fed. I'm warm.
How are YOU?