I have great respect for odd jobs, the service jobs, the ones that pay you by the hour-really badly and yet you do it, because even just 40bucks helps when you are in school.
And it also teaches you a few lessons in humiltiy and tipping- yes, and in noticing the lives of others. I can never be that person- the one with the headphones who barely looks at anyone, trudging along. I have to always be the watcher, the one who will notice the woman with the struggling baby attatched to her or the the man with the trembling limbs and while I feel a certain kind of pride in being this person, its not all.
The previous odd job at an eye brow parlor where I learned to thread eyebrows paid me not too well but I couldnt handle the sitting at home day after day waiting for programs to get back to me. Some people I met there I still remember, some they talk a lot, they will tell you of dogs that attacked them suddenly trying to explain the bruise on their face while I hope that that was really what happened, some will ask you if all Indian men have to have arranged marriages and some will just tell you that you did such a good job, tipping you heavily, making you feel warm, in even just this menial job.
The Uni money and scholarship is just about enough to pay rent, tuition, insurance leaving me with little to pursue my favourite hobby of cooking and eating and so I need yet another odd job. The one's advertised are stalked by us all and if you call a day late, its gone.
All kinds of jobs, cashiers, servers, yard work < my god!> and the jobs at dining services much coveted for its free food in btw shifts, all gone so fast! Poof!
I have taken to calling them first before sending resumes and the other day I saw this: Needed someone for light housekeeping- watering plants, cleaning dishes, so on n on. My stds are low, I can do pretty much anything and she was paying well, about 16per hour, when I called her she sounded so doped out, vague and confused. I was going to hang up but then she said she had broken her knee and had just had surgery and..there was no one to help. I thought, what the hell. Its not so far away from my place but I have to take two buses. I finally reach and meet her. she is an old lady in a housecoat. Hair that has been cut so short and teeth, some have fallen out.Chipped nails, bad breath- the works. And the house- god have mercy. It was such a mess. Here is something you need to know about me.
My instant reaction, the immediate one to any problem is- of course I can sort this out. There is no negativity in the beggining, no can I ? will I? Its always of course! and so I thought, of course I can clean up this place. I should remember that this is STUPID. I must remember, must remember to factor in the OTHER person. The dishes were fine, since apparently she hadnt had solid food in three days. Just some bowls and cups, well not some, many. She had been surviving on butter nut sqaush soup. The apt is in some kind of old age residency, lots of old folks walking around with walkers. Thoroughly depressing, the kind of scene in which everything I dread has been incorporated- old age, disease, being alone and messed up.
When I started to clean her living room- a pile of zillion papers, she wouldnt let me throw anything out. She was a hoarder, from medical bills from six years to prescriptions to ATM stubs to grocery lists, old copies of resumes, a singles memebership subscription of years, every goddamn thing had to be saved because just in case, just, just what if something went wrong and she had to explain. It made me so sad, these piles of papers and copies.. I just put them away in files. I asked her if I should get her something to eat. She said she had ordered something a few days ago and it was in the fridge. But that she hadnt been able to open the plastic container and when I did, she ate very messily. After a while, I threw all the garbage away and came back and she said she was tired and needed to rest. I could do nothing without her- I dont want to get blamed throwing something out! and so she paid me said she would call and that was that.
Yet another odd job and people. You know someday I will be able to write better on the human condition.
Later
And it also teaches you a few lessons in humiltiy and tipping- yes, and in noticing the lives of others. I can never be that person- the one with the headphones who barely looks at anyone, trudging along. I have to always be the watcher, the one who will notice the woman with the struggling baby attatched to her or the the man with the trembling limbs and while I feel a certain kind of pride in being this person, its not all.
The previous odd job at an eye brow parlor where I learned to thread eyebrows paid me not too well but I couldnt handle the sitting at home day after day waiting for programs to get back to me. Some people I met there I still remember, some they talk a lot, they will tell you of dogs that attacked them suddenly trying to explain the bruise on their face while I hope that that was really what happened, some will ask you if all Indian men have to have arranged marriages and some will just tell you that you did such a good job, tipping you heavily, making you feel warm, in even just this menial job.
The Uni money and scholarship is just about enough to pay rent, tuition, insurance leaving me with little to pursue my favourite hobby of cooking and eating and so I need yet another odd job. The one's advertised are stalked by us all and if you call a day late, its gone.
All kinds of jobs, cashiers, servers, yard work < my god!> and the jobs at dining services much coveted for its free food in btw shifts, all gone so fast! Poof!
I have taken to calling them first before sending resumes and the other day I saw this: Needed someone for light housekeeping- watering plants, cleaning dishes, so on n on. My stds are low, I can do pretty much anything and she was paying well, about 16per hour, when I called her she sounded so doped out, vague and confused. I was going to hang up but then she said she had broken her knee and had just had surgery and..there was no one to help. I thought, what the hell. Its not so far away from my place but I have to take two buses. I finally reach and meet her. she is an old lady in a housecoat. Hair that has been cut so short and teeth, some have fallen out.Chipped nails, bad breath- the works. And the house- god have mercy. It was such a mess. Here is something you need to know about me.
My instant reaction, the immediate one to any problem is- of course I can sort this out. There is no negativity in the beggining, no can I ? will I? Its always of course! and so I thought, of course I can clean up this place. I should remember that this is STUPID. I must remember, must remember to factor in the OTHER person. The dishes were fine, since apparently she hadnt had solid food in three days. Just some bowls and cups, well not some, many. She had been surviving on butter nut sqaush soup. The apt is in some kind of old age residency, lots of old folks walking around with walkers. Thoroughly depressing, the kind of scene in which everything I dread has been incorporated- old age, disease, being alone and messed up.
When I started to clean her living room- a pile of zillion papers, she wouldnt let me throw anything out. She was a hoarder, from medical bills from six years to prescriptions to ATM stubs to grocery lists, old copies of resumes, a singles memebership subscription of years, every goddamn thing had to be saved because just in case, just, just what if something went wrong and she had to explain. It made me so sad, these piles of papers and copies.. I just put them away in files. I asked her if I should get her something to eat. She said she had ordered something a few days ago and it was in the fridge. But that she hadnt been able to open the plastic container and when I did, she ate very messily. After a while, I threw all the garbage away and came back and she said she was tired and needed to rest. I could do nothing without her- I dont want to get blamed throwing something out! and so she paid me said she would call and that was that.
Yet another odd job and people. You know someday I will be able to write better on the human condition.
Later
1 comment:
I wish I could just 'Like' this post. Because I do. And because, even though I like it, I don't know yet how it makes me feel.
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