I bought a newspaper yesterday. Not that that’s earth shattering news but I usually only buy a Sunday paper – lots of supplements – just bring the wheelbarrow down to the shop and wheel it home and I’ve enough doom and gloom to do me for the rest of the week plus the latest in films, what’s on and what kind of handbag will go with my shoes.
Times are hard. The country’s a bit more bollixed than most of the rest of the world. Pay cuts, job losses ‘an bord snip’ (Monty Python wouldn’t have come up with a better ministry), offering ‘haircuts’ and hair shirts to all but those who got us here in the first place.
I’ve bitched with the guys I work with about how we have to work harder for less and then the taxman takes more etc., etc.
My job is OK. I probably work less than 30 hours a week. I have time to walk my dog, write the occasional song and even knock off early sometimes to go and play a gig. I get a bit less than I used to and – sometimes have to talk more rubbish to close sales but hey, everything depends on how you look at it.
I’ve been passing through the same set of traffic lights, close to where I live, 3-5 days a week for about 4 months now. I’ve been vaguely aware of a guy walking from the stop light down past the waiting cars and selling the Evening Herald. More recently I’ve taken a bit more notice. This guy has a quiet dignity about him, is not at all pushy and just walks up and down as the lights change and will approach a car only if the driver beckons.
A couple of days ago, I paid a bit more attention. There was a bit more traffic than usual and I only moved a little at every light change. I didn’t see anybody buy a paper and when the guy was passing my car, I asked him if he actually sold many. I then realized he was eastern European – probably Polish and he had a bit of difficultly understanding me. When he realized what I was asking, he told me maybe 60, maybe 70 some days. He told me that he got 30c out of every sale.
That’s not a lot and it’s quite a lot of work I said. ‘Yes.’, he said, ‘but – is work’
I like my job.
Thanks for stoppin into my blog. I thought you were saying at the start there that you love your work, as in self praise, "I love what I've done here" etc. (But I do like what you've done here by the way.) And yep - there's always someone with a worse job, so lots to be thankful for.
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