I am sitting here on the lakeside and cannot help but see that the sidewalk is pockmarked with bird droppings and i have to play hopscotch to avoid being grossed out. It’s a beautiful day out and while I was in the area for a few hours I decided to sit down and write. That is both the joy and bane of having the freedom to choose what to do with your day, you have to choose. There is an obligation inherent to being an independent contractor or a freelance whatever, the freedom that you gain is balaned by the choices you have to make that you might not have been aware of before.Budgets need to be met and the side of work that was given over to the bosses or the corporations are laid bare.

I think that has made me appreciate them a little more but overall I think my choice,, there is that word again, to leave them behind has been mostly a good one. 

day-trips were never on the agenda before, I had to work them around my day job and most of the time most of my social life was sacrificed because most of my friends wanted to go out at night when I was working.

This sacrifice planted a seed of resentment and bitterness in me, and after 5 years doing a job I had grown to hate, I was broken both spiritually and phisically. 

What didn’t help was the fact that many of the people I dealt with on a daily basis, both customers and coworkers, were either bitter for the same reasons I was or just had a sense of entitlement that wore on my compassionate nerves.

Those who have never wworked retail do not understand why your cashier wants to strangle you. It’s beyond their ken, and while I understand that disparity I am also angered by the fact it exists.

young people who treat someone working to feed their families like they are beneath them is wrong. How did they learn that behavior if not from their elders?

I have no children and so cannot say what should be done but I know that I was not raised to behave that way.

I can say many negative things about my parents but what I took from them is a gratitude towards the working class. My father worked 3 jobs and went to school while raising my eldest sister with my mother. My mother was a stay at home mom but I won’t say she had it easier. Her full time job was to be a mother and that deserves at least as much respect.

Be kind to your waitress’, cashiers and garbagemen/women; all the people who keep society running by doing jobs that most of us don’t have to even think of doing.   

As a cashier I was yelled at, sworn at, degraded and just plain abused daily by people who thought that they had the right to use me as a punching bag. I was the kindest sweetest person to everyone I met, or I tried to be but the treatment I received was untenable. I was a human being trying desperately to survie on minimum wage and I deserved better than what I got.

I do remember their being some bright spots, people that either came to my defense or just treated me like any human should be treated. It wasn’t all rainbows and sparkles but I wasn’t completely drowned either.What I am basically saying is that people are people no matter what and should be given the respect they are due.
 

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