Working Hard

Remember that saying: "Hard work never hurt anyone." Well, whoever made that up has never worked hard. Take just yesterday for instance. I had this deck repair job where I needed to add joists, jack the floor to the proper level, and re-attach more joists. I'm just about 6' tall and the bottom of the floor joists was about 5' from the ground and the beam was about 4' from the ground. I guarantee you I was working hard.... in a bent over..... stooped fashion. That is kind of a back killer, but a head killer, too. No matter how hard I tried I couldn't quit banging my head on the bottoms of the floor joists or the beam. I did that maybe 40 to 50 times before the job was complete.

I was installing this one joist that weighed about 75 pounds. I had to grunt like crazy to get it into place, but it wouldn't quite go into place. Instead it wedged out of position. I couldn't get it in or out. I had to reach for a hammer. That's when the joist decided it wasn't wedged any more and fell on my head. It hurt like the dickens (what ever that is). I thought it had ripped my ear off. No, it was still there. Well, that didn't knock any sense into me and didn't help me hear any better either.

To add to my misery, as I was installing a joist hanger in a difficult place. I said to myself, "This is a good place to smash my finger with the hammer." So on the very next swing of the hammer, I did. It's been years since I've said "Damn!" Haha.

This hard work also took its toll on my knees. By the time I finished this job my knees hurt so bad that I popped 4 ibuprofins. They helped my ear pain go away, too. The medication enabled me to carry the lumber waste and heavy tools back up the hill to my truck. That poses another question: why at the end of the day when a guy is dog tired, his knees ache, he's thirsty and all that stuff..... why do the tools always have to be lugged up hill?

Well, I just thank the Good Lord for my job and am thankful I can still do this. I guess it keeps me from getting fat, and that's good 'cause if I wasn't working I wouldn't be able to afford the bigger clothes. And that makes me ask another question, why do my jeans cost the same as the big guy's jeans. Doesn't it take more material and sewing to make his. Why do us skinny guys have to subsidize the big guys. We work hard (literally work our butts off) and the big guy who stuffs himself until he looks like a blimp gets rewarded by having me help pay for his jeans. Go figure. But this brings up yet, another question: why is my size of jeans always missing from the rack. There are tons of little tiny jeans and great big jeans... but none my size. Maybe these garment makers would sell even more jeans if they made them for the people that actually wear them.

Anyway, this article is just to prove that sometimes hard work does hurt someone. So if you are reading this, get yourself a good college education. I will need you to help pay my social security in a few years.