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Show 83 I am young and over-caffeinated and hate not moving so I took the first job I found where I wouldn't be sitting still. The job: "vacuum specialist." The routine: carry a portable vacuum and empty trashes at the building down the street from our apartment. Rent in our apartment is practically nothing, but tuition is expensive. During the day I go to school at Brigham Young University. I am still thinking about transferring away from BYU, or just not showing up anymore. Every week I make false promises to myself, saying the next time I see a girl scrutinized for not looking modest enough, I'm out. Or the next time I have to read C.S. Lewis. But then those things happen and I stay because without school all I had was the custodial work. And without the custodial work my life would just be getting high and/or drank with Adjacent to the Lord and Chris in the garage. In the job interview I told them that I wanted the job because it looked like "good work." That sounded like something my mom would say. They seemed happy with the answer and handed me a blue, stapled manual providing instructions for operating a vacuum safely and effectively. I work four hour shifts, from 3-7 and 8-12, sometimes both during the same day, sometimes only one. Today, if s just the 3-7. Blake isn't here today, so I get straight to work. All I have to do is empty the trashes and vacuum the basement of one building. On my own, I can get all of that done in an hour and a half out of a four hour shift, never mind the fact that if the trashes went un-emptied one day, the classrooms un-vacuumed, I doubt |