Why do you work so much?

As I sit in the truck during my 6th of 14 days in a row of working, It dawns on me. The ever popular question that I am asked so often. Why do you have so many jobs? When do you have time for fun? It's a conversation that my partner and I shared several weeks ago when he was having relationship problems. I have finally taken a step back and asked myself the question.

The answer to this is that work gives you a place of refuge. Similar to fishing or sailing for other people, where one can focus all of their attention on what they are doing. It gives them thing that requires so much effort, they don't have any time to think about anything else. This is the same phenomenon. 

Over the last few years I have noticed that my relationships with family and girlfriends have all taken severe nosedives. In an effort to avoid any hostility or confrontation, I would simply pick up an open shift at work. Why? Because it gives me the ability to get my mind off of things and it gives the other party time away from me. A fair balance right? I thought so. The less you'd have to deal with me the better.

The only issue with this mindset is that It doesn't make anything better. It's a temporary fix. This is a band aid, a patch kit, a cover up. Once work is over, you know the argument is waiting for you. So what can you do now. You thought you had it all figured out... Why didn't it work? 

Because although it may get you out of the problem temporarily, more often than not, it's still going to be there when you get out. At the same time where you feel that you may be escaping the issue, you may be just making things worse for yourself at the same time. You may be tied up on that call and you're unable to say that thing you had to get off your chest. Not to say that you wouldn't necessarily have missed out on the opportunity otherwise, but it is a factor. 

I myself have 4-5 jobs at any given moment. I have one full time and 3-4 per diem jobs. Why is this? My answer is simple. I cannot sit idle. I have to be doing something. I need to keep moving. I would rather work around the clock than sit around and wonder "what if?" Don't get me wrong. I enjoy my time off, especially when I have plans made. We all do.  It's when plans fall through or I have no plans at all where I feel like I am just wasting time. It's the fear of the unknown and not being able to adapt to change. Instead of sitting on the couch I could be making money. 

As for having time for fun? Ha! There is no fun for those that don't earn it. There is nothing that irks me greater than seeing people that barely work, and then bitch and moan about how they NEED a vacation. How they can barely survive their 18 hour a week job without needing a get away. The sad reality is that these people aren't escaping their stress. They are trying to escape the sad reality that their life has become. In my opinion(and that's why I started a blog), vacations should be earned. Those who break their asses deserve vacations or rewards. Those who sit and bitch about how it's hard to hold down a job for more than a month have absolutely no business near an airport of cruise ship. 

Granted I have my own reasons that have sculpted me into the work-a-holic that I am today. I refused to be backed into a corner and not have a way out. I can successfully, and can proudly admit, I have been able to keep my head above the water thus far. Although it is not easy in any way at all, I am doing. I often joke about the how I have to pay for the mistake I made called college. Student loans are a crippling but sad reality. It all comes full circle when you realize you pay more a month in student loans a month than you do for your rent or car payment. But I'm here and I'm alive. I am tired, beaten, broken down, and defeated...but I'm alive. 

But this is not a forever thing. This is temporary or so they say it is. In the meantime I will continue to work all of my jobs and make ends meet. Until the phone rings with that new job where I won't have to work so much. 

I wish my mind could forget what my eyes have seen...

It has been an emotional roller coaster since the last time I have written. For some fuck known reason, I chose to make excuses about everything that had happened. There were many ups and downs at work, and it knocked me on my ass. In national news, a police officer was shot and killed. This resulted in a threat towards us EMTs. These actions caught us all off guard and we suddenly went from being the heroes, to the targets. For the first time in my ems career and working in jersey city, I felt a fear for my life.

The subsequent days became longer. It was a mad scramble by all of our team to try and secure yourself a bullet proof vest. Your news feed and phone are flooded with messages of rumors and potential threats against you. What is real? What is a hoax? What is someone just looking to get you excited? Deep down you know it's just everyone looking out for your best interest. But it gets to a point where you really don't want to hear it anymore. You become tired of seeing the warnings, yet you never let that constant worry out of the back of your mind. You keep your head on a constant swivel, and you realize one thing... That the town you loved so well, has all changed in the blink of an eye.

Your normal bullshitting around with your partner before the shift, turns into a discussion of what you heard may be going down and making sure that each other's vests are fitting correctly. Now as you get into the truck, you realize more than ever, that it's real now, and you may not come home. 

You become vigilant, almost to the point of paranoia. People who you would walk by on the street, are suddenly a possible threats. You can no longer go grab the casual cup of coffee at 7-11, without having to keep your back against the wall. You no longer park your vehicle in an area where someone may approach it from an unknown area. Your fatigue level goes into overdrive. You're fighting to keep your eyes open and the act of remaining vigilant wears you out. You think it's all over with, and you realize that you are only 2 hours in. There is still 10 to go. 

You struggle to sit comfortable in your truck. And you begin to realize the things that are more difficult do. For example, it is really difficult to take a shit with a vest on. It's also a real pain in the ass to bend over to pick up small objects. But this is your life now. Some people have chose to stop wearing them, and that's their right to do so. I know the partnership that I have, we both wear ours, despite them being very hot and uncomfortable. 

But again, this has become the normal around town. You are faced with the moral difficulty of wearing Kevlar to work, not because you want to. It helps those who don't know what you see. The family and friends who care about you, that you know you couldn't ever tell what you have seen. And that if you ever did, it would give them nightmares. They would never be able to shake. 

All night, you ponder: Why should we do this? We are the good guys! We are the ones who help people! Why are we suddenly targets? It's not supposed to work this way!

Unfortunately, there is no time to stop and think about these kinda of things. You just have to strap on your boots and go to work. There's no time to be scared, there is a job to be done. In reality, Most of us have all accepted our fate in that if we get taken out on the job, it was just in the cards that way. However, you put it on everyday for your loved ones in hopes that they will be able to sleep a little easier until you walk back in that door.