Part-time

Today I realized my job is amazing. I love it. Sometimes, like today, when I can barely get myself out of bed and I feel like throwing up or crying (I can't distinguish between those two emotions), my job makes it better.

Don't get me wrong, sometimes my job causes me to want to throw up, but most days, it is my happy place.

I work with 20 someodd guys and a handful of girls, and I like/love them all (some more than others, and some barely at all, but I still like them).

They give some of the best advice ("If you love someone, you'll fight to make it work"), and some of the worst ("You have something called a conscience, listen to it as little as possible.").

At 7am this morning I felt like crawling up in the fetal position and not moving for several days, but by 8am I felt happy. Thank you, Patrick.

Times when I seriously consider dropping college or at least transfering, it is my job that keeps me going. At these times it usually the paycheck that makes me get back up at 5:50am the next morning.

I pull cables. I enter data. I create asset tracking bases. I pick up Steven's coat. I shut Justin's locker. I bring a little culture to their city ears with my country music.

I attend meetings. I cook turkeys. I troubleshoot internet connections. I clean the fish tank. I wear hard hats and steel toes. But the most important is . . .

I make friends.