Aahh, the sweet warm month of June; beginning of beach sand and the lingering of late spring flowers. When school graduates are celebrating and fathers are being celebrated. Relaxation is setting in.
Unless...you are the lowly writer awaiting advancement and royalty checks. Then, you are chained to the forces of the inevitable Day Job. What is it for you? Food server, office manager, guest services something or other? For me it's the best yet...parking cashier at the county fair.
Underneath the low, pervasive scent of car exhaust and the occasional diesel fumes, I can just make out wafts of kettle corn, funnel cakes, and the newest deep fried dish: cookie dough smothered in chocolate sauce. Even the obnoxious boom of over ripe car stereos and the yells of those directing the never-ending traffic cannot drown out sounds of children crying out from the bliss of the swing rides, or the terrified/excited screams of those brave souls bouncing from the huge bungee cords. This is the epitome of American enjoyment.
The IQ requirement for the job is low: be able to exchange $10 for a ticket, tell people to have fun, wave them through. This is lovely for me as I have been able to look at this whole experience from a zen perspective. Waiting for 30 minutes in your car to reach the fair entrance can be one of acceptance and contemplation, talking with friends/family in the car, wondering what ride to experience first. Or it can be frustration and anger--being ready to burst at the slightest provocation. It's all a choice.
As a cashier, I can observe how the clientele are choosing to handle this situation and decide that 'going with the flow' is probably the safest, most peaceful route to follow. Actually, I am in awe at how many people get to my booth and are still in a good mood. Does this show a happy nation?
Come 2014, I will be too inundated with writing to even attempt a day job. But for now, it's not too bad of a gig.
This too shall pass.