Thursday, October 3, 2019

Soul Vs. Goal

Soul Vs. Goal



In this world, money is everything, and you need a car to make it really happen. But at what cost? What will you give up to realize your dreams, or even to make a little extra cash and open new opportunities for you?

I recently had started a job that would mean $300/week and help shopping for my first car. I'm 36 years old and my job experience is that of a teenager, so naturally, this seemed like a deal that was too good to be true.

And it was.

A week in, I don't even want to work anymore. Every day, I go to this lady's house in a car that smells of rot and sweat and too much heat. I arrive at this very large house with a long drive and a turnaround near the steps. The very much worn and broken steps that are in severe need of repair. The porch is littered with old, rusted art and empty pots, some pots filled with the dead and the dying.

And thus my experience begins:
I approach the front door and enter the house. The door struggles to properly close. The house is too warm. There is a closet before me without a door. There are mops and brooms, and other things inside but I can't get to them because of a large, headless statue and a divider.

Most of the time I fold clothes. She is happy. I occasionally do other chores as well. But I'm always too warm, I never know where anything goes, and I don't have any idea where any tools are in which I might use to make the work more efficient. But I do the best that I can.

The energy in the house is oppressive and stifling. I feel muted. I feel small. It's a very uncomfortable energy which makes my own alignment sick and I feel ill after each day of work. Not a physical ill, but more an energy ill, like as if someone has poisoned my energy well.

I finish my job each day, and wait for the car to come, so I can climb back into the oppressive heat and... that smell. Oh gods that smell. I'm surprised it never made me retch. I go to my main job to work 4 hours, and for most of that shift, I am aware that that smell is still on my clothes, my skin....

I am tired all afternoon, after that morning job. It drains so much energy. It makes my body and my mind tired. Even the boss at my main job sees how it affects me. I cannot help it. Poisoned energy really affects every other part of the body.

I go home, exhausted after a way too long day. I play mindless games until I can sleep. I still sometimes catch a whiff of that smell. I sleep. I wake up the next day and I do it again. I wait outside my building for the car, the oppressive heat. The smell.

The last day I worked for her, I was late for my other job. I got talked to twice about it. I hated it. I'd reminded her several times that morning that I had to work later. I was not happy, my main-job boss was not happy, and after I spoke with her about it, she was not happy.

After, she took much of my attention away from other customers at my main job (mind you, I was off the clock, in terms of working for her) to ask multiple questions and request my help with things which I wasn't needed. But my choice was to be rude, or to help. Finally, she bought a couple of flowers and left. I sighed my relief.

I worked my shift, eating some pizza my manager had left on the counter, and drinking a water I'd grabbed out of the storage room. The first of both I'd had since breakfast. (I ate at 9am, and this was at 4pm.) I went home, after getting a LOT of work done on the lot, and rested in the kitchen while I heated some more food. I hadn't eaten much at work.

Before I was finished fixing my physical state, I got a text from the lady, saying that I didn't do the job I'd worked so hard on that day. There were pictures. The work looked properly done, except the one piece I couldn't complete because of lack of proper tools.  That was the last straw. After all she'd put me through that day I couldn't take this with grace. I was done selling pieces of my soul for a promise of wealth and transportation.

I was never that kind of girl anyway.
I won't sacrifice my self for money and a car.

P.S. When I think back on this experience, I sometimes think I still smell that smell.