Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Dias de los muertos & las gracias

One of the facets of my job is I spend many hours with my crew. Co-existence can be grating, and all the usual human dysfunctional behaviors manifest themselves. But we also forge bonds over the mundane and the spectacular. If we go to a particularly crazy call, we will forever refer to 'the house with the pigs in the bathroom' or 'the woman with really, really swollen ankles' or, of course, 'the guy with the weight plates constricting his testicles.'

We go out in all weather and we are there until we're done. Very cold, very hot, shitty storms. There's a bond that forms in such misery or absurdity. We are not the military: those men and women face true danger a regular and constant intervals. But we do experience some intense stuff together.

When fortunate enough to work with dedicated, highly competent, compassionate people, as I have been, there's a pleasure that balms the sting of rough calls. We all have bad days, but in general we click. I trust my life with these people, and we rely on each other.

I also see so much tragedy and deep ruin that it's bracing. I come home after EVERY shift (even the one where I wiped out, hit the post, and smashed my shoulder) so incredibly psyched to see my girls and Annie. I appreciate so deeply and dearly what wonder I am privileged to enjoy as my normal life. It's humbling. It's refreshing and motivates me to try to share my excess joy with those whose life, whether temporarily or permanently, sucks.

Live your life right, as it's all we know we have. (PS: guilt is a total waste of time, energy, talent.) And for the love of the whale's tail, do NOT go shopping on Friday. What the fuck would you do that for?
Gobble, gobble to one and all.

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