[ Note : Sorry if we haven’t been getting together too often Precious Reader. But beyond my quit-smoking post on Nov most years, this is the blog that I try not to forget, the count-your-blessings post. Thanks 123RF.com for the pic, and thanks everyone for reading! ]
WE ALWAYS work in pairs, but halfway in, my shift partner had to go home early. So I finished my last 2016 shift alone, although there were packers on the other end of the work site.
Surprise, surprise, everything worked out well just there and then. Everything clicked, and product was churned out ton after ton, like it was the most natural thing in the world. More important, it went straight to packing, nothing saved, nothing wasted, probably straight into a waiting truck into bakeries, restos and supermarkets. It was THAT urgent.
Of course there was the shift partner (gone hours ago) who helped me set up the machines and raw material, the veteran who warned me of specific issues and situations to avoid, and of course the packers who checked in on me in the production area every now and then, but in the end, after half a shift of working alone, I turned out 31 tons of product. Working on my own.
It was then when I felt, for all the trouble, training, dramas, stresses and sore legs, arms and unending fatigue, that I liked my job. In fact, I liked my situation, and in sum, I liked my life.
I’m not being boastful, exemplary or trying to make this a teachable moment. One person’s survival is another person’s perfect situation. Perfect situation being : you have a decent job, you have a little money saved in the bank, you are in reasonably good health, and you live in a country that respects human life, liberty and property. Not a bad-looking list, especially using the eyes of someone in Africa (almost anywhere in Africa), or someone in the Middle East (almost anyone or anywhere in the Middle East) or someone in Syria (anyone, anywhere in Syria. Except for that guy making it miserable for everyone else).
Decent Job. It’s not a dream job, but I get paid better than minimum wage. In New Zealand, that means you have money for the basics, and a little left over. The job involves a little physical labor, and moving about, but so what? It keeps me fit, and being fit at my age is a definite bonus. To work my job, I need to be fit, and working allows me to continue being fit. So it’s a gift that keeps giving.
Money saved. This is where it gets tricky. While the going is good, money coming in, and the sun is shining, you just don’t see the urgent need to save and put aside blessings now for blessings in the future. BUT, believe me when I say this, this is important, you won’t be earning the same amount of money all the time, and all through life, your earnings may or may not go up, but your needs will never go down.
Just to be able to save a little money, by choice, is a pure luxury for me. And that’s what I’m doing now. A bit late, but better than never.
Good health. This is my ace in my sleeve. My last physical, said my doc who felt me in places too awkward to mention in a general patronage blog, said I was, for my age, job and stress levels, in very good health. Meaning, my numbers were good, tests looked good, and the remainder of my life, against all odds, looked promising.
Let’s all count our blessings, happy new 2017, and Mabuhay!