Working Hard is Hard Work…Sometimes

In its original form, this was a post justifying feeling sorry for myself because that’s where I was a month ago.  Fortunately I didn’t publish that nonsense.

So.  Put your hands in the air if you have ever had a bad day.  …or five.  …or if you have ever become emotional after several hard days and long, sleepless nights.  Any hands up?

Let me give you the skinny.  Working hard is hard work.  When it’s hot outside, you’re going to sweat.  Sometimes a lot.  If you are allergic to hay, putting up hay will make you sneeze.  Cows will get out.  At night.  In the road.  Rain won’t come when you need it but will always come as soon as you mow hay.  Rain will find its way into your home.  Ducks are hard to pluck.  Children need fathers who can set work aside and just hang out…just when the pressure to work is the highest.  Husbands need wives who understand that sometimes (and only sometimes) I just want to sit and play video games…accomplishing nothing, learning nothing, improving nothing…just shooting aliens with my brain in the off position…OK Boo?

Sometimes things are so difficult that I regret moving here…but who hasn’t wondered if they made the right choices in life?  If they married the right spouse?  …if they went to the right school?  …if things could have turned out better if they had only done that one thing differently?

Today I live on a farm.  This is where I am.  In some ways it’s who I am.  I could write about the bad stuff that comes with working a farm.  I could tell you what it is and what it is not from a strongly negative perspective.  I could do it in the name of “saving future homesteaders from the heartbreak of shattered dreams.”  But that is all meaningless.  A month after I wrote the first draft of this post I feel radically different about the farm.  It’s still hot out, the days are still long, there is still more work than I can handle but I feel pretty OK about it.  What is different?

You know that thing you love?  You would do it even if it didn’t pay.  You would want to share it with everyone you know and love…even strangers on the street.  It’s amazingly cool and you feel blessed to be able to do it…to be able to share it.  You know that thing?  Sometimes it really stinks.

But only sometimes.

Here’s a tip to make the work more tolerable:  Get paid to do it.  More on this tomorrow-ish.

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2 thoughts on “Working Hard is Hard Work…Sometimes

  1. Reminds me of coaching high school baseball. I figured out one time I made $.25/hour coaching. And I believe I’m well paid compared to most; and certainly more than the volunteers.

    Maybe that’s why I enjoy working for my brother-in-law in the summer. Thank you for the reminders.

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