Sunday, January 30, 2011
Dave notes that I am wearing the same outfit today that I wore yesterday and slept in last night. I just added underwear during the daylight hours. Less laundry to do, I cough and gurgle into my Kleenex. I don't get as sick as I did when I smoked. Holy Marlboros, Batman, those were crazy fun days and a small cold could turn into a lengthy raw-throated case of bronchitis and there were many trips to the acute care center.
I remember Al, the manager of the drug store where I worked summers between college semesters. He went to pharmacy school full-time and then pumped gas eight hours every night and you gotta admire that kind of pluck. I don't understand, Al said, after a cashier called in sick. "Shirley was all right yesterday and I know she'll be back tomorrow. How can you be sick for one day?" I mentioned that in the break room and Shirley's sick leaves got longer.
Years later I was applying for a job at the same store. I left my husband and I had been unemployed for ten years due to three pregnancies. Al had long been promoted to a downtown office and the human resources manager said without glancing my way that there was no employment found in any of the stores. "Recession, you know," he added playing with a pearl-studded cuff link. The next morning at seven a.m. he called and his voice was somewhat humbled to the point that he could play humble. "Al saw your application on my desk and he said to hire you - you work hard." Several positions had materialized and I had my pick, imagine that.
Work hard, children, you never know where the dividends will take you. In most situations someone is watching and marking time.