It’s a little bit after three in the morning and I’m on the clock working. I’m pouring a cup of coffee and I’ll be here until about 5:45 and that’s when I head home to room number 226 at the Extended StayAmerica suites in Santa Rosa.
How did I end up living in a hotel and working at a gas station during the graveyard shift? Well, that answer is probably gonna take longer to explain than just one blog here, but I promise to try and explain And when I say I’ll try, I mean I’ll actually do it.
When some people say that they’ll try to do something, that usually means they won’t be able to get to it, but they’ll think about getting to it, and that’s about all they will do.
That’s not trying, that’s contemplating doing something, thinking about trying to do it, but not actually putting out any effort whatsoever to do it, other than burn a few brain cells.
People procrastinate, or are always too busy, or they are afraid. Afraid of making a choice, because…what if it’s the wrong one? I’ve been somehow alive for the past forty odd years and there are two things I know about most people.
Number one, they are creatures of habit who dislike change, and they are afraid to fail, and I mean they’re afraid so much to fail, that they will not take a chance if they think they might.
Now, that seems like a smart and safe way to live and if I were not me, I might have chosen to not take the risks I took, but I am me. I am in the middle of taking one of these risks.
Two months ago I quit my job and my girlfriend quit hers the same day, and P.S. we were both working at the same place. We did not give any notice, and we do not feel bad about that. I killed myself for that place, and I almost lost someone I love. And when you’re the whistleblower, they will jump at a chance to get rid of you, so I got rid of me.
I went on three interviews and I took the first job I was offered. On the third interview I was hired to work graveyard at a new 24 hour gas station. It’s not at all what I thought I’d be doing, but I don’t regret taking the job one bit.
It’s the first time I have worked overnight and aside from the sleep adjustment, I’m finding some other senses have gotten more acute. There is no one there with me for 6 and a half hours, I clean and organize and run the place and I have to scrub toilets, but it’s not like it’s beneath me. Fucking pride went out the door years ago.
It’s not as lucrative, and this is a risk that I took quitting that job that paid me more money than this job but as I’m finding out, the restaurant has been slow I’m told. Maybe I saw it coming and maybe we got out at the right time.
I didn’t look at this challenge and run away from it, or be afraid of what could happen if I did something. I thought, what could happen if I didn’t do something? Stagnation would be worse than trying, failing and trying again.
That’s the key. You just gotta be OK with failing because you can always try one more time. Maybe it takes another time after that too, but I try again. Nobody is keeping score of how many times it takes for me to get something right. You don’t know what right is until you have tried. You know what wrong is, wrong is doing nothing at all and letting it pass you by. So when I was offered the postion of night time CSR for the low low rate of under $28 an hour, I said fuck it. Let’s take a shot.
I can’t really elaborate more on how white bread, middle America my life has become, and I’m not complaining about that at all because I’ve noticed my stress level has dropped significantly. Also I’m not angry anymore. I’m not feeling that any second now the toxicity of this work environment might ruin my life and get in between the girl that I love which it almost did. two months ago.
I don’t regret taking this risk, even though its sometimes creepy at 3:43 in the morning. I tried something and I succeeded but…not exactly the way that I thought.
And as I take a look aroundoutside my car window I see that Walmart has just opened. It’s 6am, and for now this is home, and I love it here.
Complaining Is An Art Form 