It is 2:30 am, when I finally shut down the computer and the lights and head up to bed. I have been sitting at this computer for over almost 18 hours straight working on someone else's concept of an urgent matter. Some sort of witness statement that was needed for some multimillionaire international case that is none of my concern. That is in addition to all the other deadlines I already had. Except for trips to the bathroom, to pick up the youngest monster at school, and dinner at the local McDonald's, I was virtually glued to the chair.
By 6 PM I was in panicky mode. Oldest monster has a Cub Scout pack meeting at 7 PM and I still have over 2 hours of this danged transcript to go. That is, in actual working time, approximately 6 hours of work. After hanging up the phone three times on the husband (sorry honey), who will not make it on time to take said son to meeting, I call one of the other moms, who in true friend fashion, offers to take, not just the oldest child in question, but also the youngest menace. She obviously didn't know what she would be getting herself into, so I thanked her for the offer, but declined to send said youngest menace along, even though it would have made the next couple of hours much easier on me.
By midnight, I am fuming. I had expected this particular project to take no more than 6 hours, but at this point, I have already accumulated 10 hours of work. I am tired, hungry, and cranky --in true toddler fashion-- and cannot see why on God's green earth I got myself into this mess. I am so mad! Mad at me, for accepting a job that, deep down I knew was going to be a bear, because it involved fixing other people's mistakes, and that ALWAYS gets me riled up. Mad at the other translators who put so little effort into the project the in the first place and now I was left to clean up their mess. Mad at my clients, for having the gall to think so highly of my skills that they needed to ask me to do work for them. (Really, who the heck cares if it is, indeed, paid work at rush rates?!? ) I am fruitcaking overloaded, and I.can't.take.one.more.job!!
After 4 hours of broken sleep, I scramble to get everyone up and ready to go. My eyes feel heavy and I would like nothing else than to go back under the covers and sleep until noon. But we all know that's not an option. Child needs to be at school at 8, and today is my turn to carpool, so...
As I am driving back from dropping off youngest creature and friend at their school, I can't help but notice what a beautiful morning it was. Cold, but beautiful. After the adrenaline of the morning rush subsides, it is actually quite a serene trip back home. It is in a sunny morning and I am driving through rolling fields that despite winter, still manage to show vestiges of green. Not having to be anywhere, I start to relax a little, and the mind starts meandering around, and little by little, the rational, civilized part of me starts gaining ground and replacing Mrs. Hyde once again.
At this point, I realize how very ungrateful I am. I am sinfully ungrateful, and in such a realization, I feel painfully ashamed.
Normally on Fridays I work as a volunteer translating for the local food pantry. Today, mercifully, I have the day off. But as I think about what I would be doing any other Friday, I came to the realization that the last 12 agonizing hours of work provided me with enough money to cover, say, about 3 of these families electric bills. Every Friday I come face to face with families struggling to get some of their most basic needs covered. Food, shelter, health, and sometimes, just someone who will listen to their ordeals. Most times, these families have fallen on hard times due to unemployment. The economy is improving entirely too slowly for some of these folks. And here I am, complaining because I have --get this-- too much work. Shame on me.
I also realized that, for as tiresome and irritating as this particular project was, I found myself laughing out loud more than once at the stuff I heard coming from that tape. There is no denying that there is entertainment value in litigation. And, really, under normal circumstances, without the rush, I truly love what I do. No other job on earth ever gave me this much pleasure and pride. I like that my clients think I am the bomb. I like that I KNOW I am doing a great job. I like that I actually have the choice to take it or leave it, if I so please, because I am my own boss. Explain to me, then, why am I complaining?
Let's review, shall we? I am lucky to have paid work that allows me and my family to live comfortably and without the uncertainty of where our next meal will come from, or whether we will have a place to stay next month. My work is satisfying and meaningful, and more importantly, it makes me laugh. Well, if those are not good enough reasons to be grateful, I don't know what are.
So, from now on, when the hours grow long, and the outlook is gloomy, I will try to remember that the good Lord has actually blessed me in more ways than I am able to count…. And, fudge it! It is darn time that I show a little appreciation!! (Thank you, God).
