Manual Labor – part 1 The Hardest Day In Years…Digging Holes In Denver

Today was the hardest I’ve physically worked in 20 years, with the exception of a couple of moves in/move out in NYC. Those that live in NYC know what the hell I’m talking about…hello 4th floor walk up in August…FUCK!

So money is tight or in reality non existent for me right now. Ive had a few things go down that have set me back a little but because of a couple of amazing friends I was able to make some hard cold cash today. First before moving on, I really enjoyed the work in general, It was nice to not have the previous level of responicibility that came with every moment while clocked in as a respiratory therapist.

That feeling passed after maybe 15 minutes and it became hard labor. I’m talking about misery beyond anything Ive experienced since the Marine Corps…17 years ago.

There is a much more solid respect for those that go out there and beat the shit out of their bodies for pay day in and day fucking out. I always respected trades men and women because they are the ones that built the shit we live, work, and play in. I knew they worked physically much harder than I have for most of my adult life…but holy shit it truely never knew just how HARD.

My bud PJ is a plumber and has a rather large project in Denver. I offered my help because I need the income. Would I have done it otherwise? NOPE. I knew going into it that I was going to be doing a lot of physical labor so I was fairly mentally prepared.

The series of events:

  • We arrive at the soon got be new pizza joint in Downtown Denver
  • I’m taken down to a dark, cold, and dank basement
  • I’m told to wear a hard hat
  • I’m handed a shovel and shown to a hole in a back room
  • I am then told to dig filling two orange Home Depts buckets with the dirt Ive excavated
  • Once full (30 seconds later) I’m told to carry these buckets of dirt to a adjacent room to dump into a pile  (everything up till now completely expected)
  • 2 dirt dumping trips later…I know that I’m in deep shit.
  • The remainder of the 6 hours in that dank basement involved me, a shovel, and a shit load of dirt that with every scoop became heavier and heavier
  • I manage to dig a trench that in my mind is a true triumph…PJ dug 3
My trench
The best looking piece of dug out ground EVER!!
My trench
MY AMAZING TRENCH!!

Now while I’m living in my own personal hell my pal PJ is bouncing around doing just as much but truely twice as much as me EASILY. Now granted this incredibly hard working man does this for a living and his body has been hardened to the crushing pain that he surely feels just like me. RIGHT?

By the third hour I was still crawling along and he’s sill running around like a crazy person. I’m feeling close to death and he appears to be perfectly fine. Nothing but pure respect to him and the hardworking men and women of this world. I know why I dont want to this for a living but I respect and maybe even envy those that choose had sweetly nasty work as their chosen profession.

Hats off to ya all! Now I’m off to soak in a cold bath and hope to Christ tomorrow is easier.

Cheers

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