Thursday, December 09, 2004
AGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
I am ready to leave the working class. Being a part of it is just not worth it for me anymore.
I'm not able to take care of myself. This is the second day in a row on which I ate lunch at dinnertime. I had quick, undersized lunches on the two days before. That's not right. I was at the doctor on Tuesday, and after waiting 15 minutes for quick blood draw, I had to leave because I had to go babysit. I don't babysit for the money (it is only $7 per hour, so I guess it is an added bonus)- I babysit because I love kids, this one in particular. I babysit so I won't have my own kids and create more work for myself. I was not able to get my blood drawn or eat lunch yesterday because I was working. Then, today, I again got home from work too late to get to the doctor's office, even though I had forgone lunch. Something is wrong here.
I am a gardener and an activist, and it is my preference that these things come before work and not too far behind taking care of myself. However, it is more often the case that I have no time to get to the garden, and on a week like this, I have very little time to do any activism (I actually missed a meeting to babysit). When I garden (sometimes), I am able to literally enjoy the fruits of my labor. When I work, the money that I earn all has to go somewhere, whether to the landlord, to the grocery store, or to paying any one of my bills. Plus my time was spent working on someone else's project (for example, taking care of someone else's kid and cleaning up after her/him).
I need to take my time back. I have to figure out some way to not have to work. Some way to not have to pay rent, and some way to get to spend my time doing things that I think are important.
I understand why the labor movement in this country is dying- why would you want to identify yourself according to being a "worker," something people don't get to choose, but rather, have forced upon them. Capitalism makes being a worker necessary so that the non-capitalized class can pay the rent for the roof over its head, buy food that was grown thousands of miles away, have health insurance (or pay) for shoddy, non-individualized health "care," which is only provided during working hours, thus forcing workers to have to jeopordize their status as people with roofs over their heads in order to see the doctor, and of course, buy, buy, buy. What fun. If you buy enough toys for the kids, maybe you can make up for having spent so much time out of the house when you were at work and shopping.
email me at haydees@gmail.com
I am ready to leave the working class. Being a part of it is just not worth it for me anymore.
I'm not able to take care of myself. This is the second day in a row on which I ate lunch at dinnertime. I had quick, undersized lunches on the two days before. That's not right. I was at the doctor on Tuesday, and after waiting 15 minutes for quick blood draw, I had to leave because I had to go babysit. I don't babysit for the money (it is only $7 per hour, so I guess it is an added bonus)- I babysit because I love kids, this one in particular. I babysit so I won't have my own kids and create more work for myself. I was not able to get my blood drawn or eat lunch yesterday because I was working. Then, today, I again got home from work too late to get to the doctor's office, even though I had forgone lunch. Something is wrong here.
I am a gardener and an activist, and it is my preference that these things come before work and not too far behind taking care of myself. However, it is more often the case that I have no time to get to the garden, and on a week like this, I have very little time to do any activism (I actually missed a meeting to babysit). When I garden (sometimes), I am able to literally enjoy the fruits of my labor. When I work, the money that I earn all has to go somewhere, whether to the landlord, to the grocery store, or to paying any one of my bills. Plus my time was spent working on someone else's project (for example, taking care of someone else's kid and cleaning up after her/him).
I need to take my time back. I have to figure out some way to not have to work. Some way to not have to pay rent, and some way to get to spend my time doing things that I think are important.
I understand why the labor movement in this country is dying- why would you want to identify yourself according to being a "worker," something people don't get to choose, but rather, have forced upon them. Capitalism makes being a worker necessary so that the non-capitalized class can pay the rent for the roof over its head, buy food that was grown thousands of miles away, have health insurance (or pay) for shoddy, non-individualized health "care," which is only provided during working hours, thus forcing workers to have to jeopordize their status as people with roofs over their heads in order to see the doctor, and of course, buy, buy, buy. What fun. If you buy enough toys for the kids, maybe you can make up for having spent so much time out of the house when you were at work and shopping.
email me at haydees@gmail.com
Sunday, December 05, 2004
Fire in the hole!
H's house burned down today. I wrote something about it in my other blog, but I have some things left over to say here:
He is so lucky to have survived, and to have friends who were so concerned about him that they would drop everything and run up to his house to see if he was ok.
I feel really bad because I was supposed to go up there yesterday, and then today. I was disappointed to wake up and see that it was sunny, because it meant that I was going to have to haul my ass up there and help him plant stuff. I tried to call and his phone rang once, then gave me a busy signal. There have been weird problems with that line for a while, so I wasn't concerned. Apparently C and S were. And his cellphone was off, but that is also not too unusual. I tried to call C and S for our habitual chat, but they didn't answer. I just figured that they were being more productive than I was. They sure were- they had gone up to his house to see if he was okay!!
And this afternoon I wanted to go up there and survey the damage, but the cats decided to not go at the last minute (we had tried to call to see if they were still up there, and we didn't really want to go up if our friends weren't there). But it is good that I didn't go, both so I wouldn't have to breathe the toxic leftovers of the fire, and also... well, whenever I had a sick relative, I mean really sick, my parents never brought me or my sister to visit them in the hospital. So as a result I have no experience with that part of grieving- seeing the person at their "worst," or sickest, weakest, whatever you want to say. So I am not used to seeing death, dying, or the final destruction of loved ones' lives. I know that I missed out on being able to say goodbye to my mother's parents, my father's sister...and that because I can't afford a plane ticket and time off of work, I missed out on the last coherent conversations with my morbidly obese uncle who, in addition to heart/weight/obesity problems, now also has Alzheimer's disease.
After what C said: at the edge of the deck there was a 1 foot pile of ashes, and it turned into a hill as it got closer to the place where the back door was, I am glad that I didn't go. I am glad that I didn't stare through the hole that used to be a ceiling, home, and roof. I am glad that I didn't get to see what has become of all the hard work that H has done, in terms of work for money, for the movement, and in studying agriculture... All the money that he earned and spent on things that were in that apartment, all the time and energy that he invested on such beautiful things...how I wanted to pick some lavender last time I was there, but instead I said, "Next time..." I was so worried about getting out of the hills before it got dark...I don't want to have an accident, and sometimes bad things happen to me and my friends- like C's accident, or this fire. And now the lavender has something like a burnt oven door thrown on it. Or burnt sound system equipment. Or fire-fighting chemicals.
I hope his next place is not in the hills. People living up there is against my belief system. People shouldn't have to invest so much energy (oil, gas, cars, fancy strong bikes, energy) to get home. People shouldn't live on eroding hillsides. And even up in the hills, the houses are less than 20 feet apart. I don't think it is right for people to live that close together. It's still the city, even if you live next to Tilden Park, a beautiful, partly wild space, where you aren't supposed to pick the apples or blackberries. I want to not dread the trip that it takes to go to his house. I want to visit him more often because it is easy to do. It might also be nice to be able to bring my cleaning supplies over so I can give his new home proper regular cleanings (complete with vacuum and toilet bowl cleaner).
So I guess that for today, the shock of hearing about all that H lost is enough for me to process without actually having to see it. Maybe I will make it up there another time.
email me at haydees@gmail.com
H's house burned down today. I wrote something about it in my other blog, but I have some things left over to say here:
He is so lucky to have survived, and to have friends who were so concerned about him that they would drop everything and run up to his house to see if he was ok.
I feel really bad because I was supposed to go up there yesterday, and then today. I was disappointed to wake up and see that it was sunny, because it meant that I was going to have to haul my ass up there and help him plant stuff. I tried to call and his phone rang once, then gave me a busy signal. There have been weird problems with that line for a while, so I wasn't concerned. Apparently C and S were. And his cellphone was off, but that is also not too unusual. I tried to call C and S for our habitual chat, but they didn't answer. I just figured that they were being more productive than I was. They sure were- they had gone up to his house to see if he was okay!!
And this afternoon I wanted to go up there and survey the damage, but the cats decided to not go at the last minute (we had tried to call to see if they were still up there, and we didn't really want to go up if our friends weren't there). But it is good that I didn't go, both so I wouldn't have to breathe the toxic leftovers of the fire, and also... well, whenever I had a sick relative, I mean really sick, my parents never brought me or my sister to visit them in the hospital. So as a result I have no experience with that part of grieving- seeing the person at their "worst," or sickest, weakest, whatever you want to say. So I am not used to seeing death, dying, or the final destruction of loved ones' lives. I know that I missed out on being able to say goodbye to my mother's parents, my father's sister...and that because I can't afford a plane ticket and time off of work, I missed out on the last coherent conversations with my morbidly obese uncle who, in addition to heart/weight/obesity problems, now also has Alzheimer's disease.
After what C said: at the edge of the deck there was a 1 foot pile of ashes, and it turned into a hill as it got closer to the place where the back door was, I am glad that I didn't go. I am glad that I didn't stare through the hole that used to be a ceiling, home, and roof. I am glad that I didn't get to see what has become of all the hard work that H has done, in terms of work for money, for the movement, and in studying agriculture... All the money that he earned and spent on things that were in that apartment, all the time and energy that he invested on such beautiful things...how I wanted to pick some lavender last time I was there, but instead I said, "Next time..." I was so worried about getting out of the hills before it got dark...I don't want to have an accident, and sometimes bad things happen to me and my friends- like C's accident, or this fire. And now the lavender has something like a burnt oven door thrown on it. Or burnt sound system equipment. Or fire-fighting chemicals.
I hope his next place is not in the hills. People living up there is against my belief system. People shouldn't have to invest so much energy (oil, gas, cars, fancy strong bikes, energy) to get home. People shouldn't live on eroding hillsides. And even up in the hills, the houses are less than 20 feet apart. I don't think it is right for people to live that close together. It's still the city, even if you live next to Tilden Park, a beautiful, partly wild space, where you aren't supposed to pick the apples or blackberries. I want to not dread the trip that it takes to go to his house. I want to visit him more often because it is easy to do. It might also be nice to be able to bring my cleaning supplies over so I can give his new home proper regular cleanings (complete with vacuum and toilet bowl cleaner).
So I guess that for today, the shock of hearing about all that H lost is enough for me to process without actually having to see it. Maybe I will make it up there another time.
email me at haydees@gmail.com
