Ashamed

I felt ashamed today. A kind man, helping me carry wine from the car to the venue asked me how he could get into the television industry. He works when the venue is preparing or hosting an event, which means he only works half of each month – if that much.

My heart sank.

I don’t have a good relationship with my job at this point. Sad, but true. Its not that I don’t like it: I do, but I’m scared. Not sure for what because I’ve made mistakes before, big ones, and I’m still here.

I’m also tired.

Tired of working to prove myself.

Tired of working long hours and it being the norm.

Tired to not be able to spend with people that make me happy or with books that make me happy or in countries that make me happy.  

My heart sank because what do I say to him: do I tell him the truth about the long work hours and the unethical things that people do?

Or do I encourage him to find a good job, because from the little time I spend with him today, I can see he is a good worker.

My answer came out and I immediately felt ashamed. I told him about the long hours: 6 days a week, sometimes 7 days a week for weeks on end. He commented saying everybody needs to start somewhere.

What do I, with a good job, a roof over my head, with hot water to bathe in every night and warm clothes have to complain about?

The Hard Truth

People only really care about themselves. You can support and encourage and cheer from the sideline: but when their hospital visit is over, when the wound healed, when their car is fixed – they will be gone.

Caring doesn’t make you a bad person, just don’t expect anything in return.

Don’t expect a reply.

Don’t expect support.

Don’t expect someone to dry your tears.

Don’t expect help and most certain don’t expect that someone else will hug you, in your hour of need to tell you its going to be ok.

I don’t know.

I don’t like people, but leave me on a train station in India with a ticket going anywhere and its fascinating watching the world and its people.