Am I Above Blue Collar or Am I Just a Heartless Intolerant Bastard?

As you guys all might know already, during school’s break, I have jumped back into the construction business and am waking at the wee hours of morning to make money for school. Dawn’s early light finds me well awake before the sun sneaks it’s first peak over the horizon (well, maybe not awake). Let me tell you, working thirteen to eighteen hour days are starting to wear on me (because I have to work at Dominos too sometimes). Every morning I wake thinking to myself, “is this fucking worth it?” Is it because I am working god awful hours, or could I be miserable for another reason that life has become so unbearable?
Though the hours are draining my health (among other things), they aren’t the worst of it. I think working thirteen-eighteen hour days wouldn’t be so bad if I really enjoyed what I did. Now, working in ceilings is by far the least extenuating occupation in construction, but it is still manual labor. Which I really don’t mind either. The sense of pride I get after completing a hallway/classroom—whatever—is fulfilling. Why don’t I enjoy it? I have to admit it is the people I work with. The people—the red necks—the white trash—I work with, make work absolutely unbearable at times. Their overt racist remarks about the “Mexi-can’ts” and other observations that would make a Klansman blush, plus the total lack of intelligence, fuddle the already dusty floors so much so that I have now developed a quite nasty cough.
–Bleh!
Okay, Okay. So, maybe I have intolerance for people I work with at my other jobs too. Such is the case with Domin-ho’s as it was with Pizza Slut when I worked there as well. Stupid people piss me off. I can’t explain it other than I just have the need to lash out at those that are too incompetent. I wonder to myself constantly about how these people even found their way to work that day. I hold so much contempt for those people. Does that make me a bad person?
—Yes, yes it does…
—Shut-up you!
Though most of my relatives, and my grand parents were raised in the blue collar lifestyle, doesn’t mean that I am anywhere ready or fit to lead the same. I mean, my father was raised in this lifestyle, but he of nine children was the only one to break out and move to a higher class. Now, as his offspring, I am once removed and already I feel (admittedly guilty) about looking down upon those who work within a lower class. Whether it be construction or some other blue collar occupation, though I have the utmost respect for the skill the have (any of those guy can fix my car or build me my new house if they wanted), I cannot respect the individuals. That is, unless they prove to me otherwise. In a world where one should have to earn respect anyway, I find I tax those individuals doubly so because of my stereotype judgment of the character before I meet them.
So, how does this work me into not thinking I am blue collar material? I think that I could tolerate a job working with intolerant boobs (cause I know they’re everywhere…) and god awful hours if I was behind a desk, crunching numbers, doing even the most remedial mind numbing tasks, instead of working in a job that I consider blue collar. Why? Because the pay and benifits are better!Is that so disdainful of me?
—Yes, yes it is!
—Shut-up you!
I just have to face it. I was just not cut out for manual labor. Or any other remedial part time (even full time) service industry—minimum wage crap—job. I have yet to see how I will fare in the real job market, well at least the job market that is what I consider within my class, as of yet. Hell knows? Maybe there is a chance I won’t be satisfied there either. Perhaps, all the things I have come to hate about my current economic situation and employment will haunt me there as well. Though I will be using different excuses (for that is all I am good for), it may be that they will really be the same. We’ll see on that one. Then I will know for sure that I was really meant to move away from here and become a hermit.
God people suck!
Okay, I find myself tired and ready for bed. I worked from six in the morning today till eleven tonight. This is my greatest excuse if this blog didn’t seem cohesive enough tonight. I blame sleep deprivation. Anyway, I’m a-tired of sharin’.
Peace out peoples,
-sib-