"Are you sure?" Pauline asked. "Yea that's fine. It's not a big deal. It'll be more you have to explain considering they don't know me." I said.
I work at a cemetery. It wasn't always like this. I enjoy it, but it's temporary. I'm finally taking Sophie out. We've been talking for a few weeks now and her parents asked what I do. If you tell your parents you are about to leave with a man 4 years your senior and tell them this mysterious man works at a cemetery, chances are they'll already have preconceived notions and won't like you no matter how nice you are. At the least it'll be an added 20 minutes of explanation.
"Tell them what I do on the side, that's what I do with everyone else anyway."
On this side. I hate that term. I don't even do it anymore. So now it's an outright lie. For 4 years I professionally produced cinematic wedding films. Not Uncle Joey in the back with his camera. I mean, we made short films. Beautiful vignettes into the happiest day of a couple's time together thus far, (hopefully not the happiest) and made a lot of money doing it. I shot on weekends and sat editing during the week. I made good money. I mean, REALLY good money. I flew to Egypt on that money one year.
But it was a small operation. The guy who owned it and myself. There were more times than I can count where he did me favors such as forward me a few check for dates I would work so I could pay bills, so that was nice. But more than that, there were times I couldn't cash a check until Monday, or I had to wait for this or that. I was going above and beyond, running errands, fixing computers, doing research, staying late for things, being a friend, driving all over creation. I would suddenly be out of work for weeks on end, turning into months because money wasn't flowing. I would wait. This happened a few times.
The beginning of the end was the December two years back when he really screwed me over financially. Things were going well at the end of the season and we ha a lot of editing to do. So in November, he gave me a 3 dollar raise. from 12 to 15. WOW, that was huge. I worked a few weeks on that and it was grand. It was the same year I went to Egypt for 10 days in October and was still high from that. My sister needed a place to stay and so did I, so we moved out together. My confidence now was based on my new found wealth. Think again. In January, not 2 months later, he cut me off completely due to financial issues.
The guy I worked for was looking to finally move out into a house and my belief is that he was stifling all payment until the bank could approve him. This turned out to be right as he owed me a few thousand dollars I agreed to wait for because 1. I am weak, 2. I wanted him to get his stupid house. 3. He told me there'd be extra.
Now, he owed me for a few weddings, as well as a documentary/ advertising project. So I'm not entirely sure what the exact amount I was owed. But for all intents and purposes, there was no extra. I waited 3 months. I went broke. I slowly realized through February, March, and April, that he wasn't going to ask me back to edit.
Fuck him. I got a job at the cemetery. I was torn. This was the first time ever, EVER, since I had to look for work outside my field. I was disillusioned. For all I did for the man, which I'll never be able to encapsulate here, he slowly tore away at what I wanted to do with my life and helped me transition from aspiring filmmaker loving what I do, to loathing even sitting at a computer. I thought of him and his stupid fat face. Talking about everything but work, AT work. I learned to screw off. My work ethic and productivity was at an all time low. I got nothing done, which in truth is probably the reason he didn't ask me back on a day-to-day basis. But in doing so, instead of firing myself up and getting a better job in the field, or starting my own business, I gave up. I couldn't stand it. I didn't believe in myself. I still don't.
So film was out of the question, it's what I've wanted to do since I was 12. It's all I had. Now what? What the fuck do I do now? Work in IT again? Get a soul sucking job with not enough pay or hours? My bills are high enough. I was behind on everything. Rent, loans, cards, storage units (yes plural) stores, bills, you name it. I owed to my parents, friends and sister. I still do. I couldn't sit though. I could no longer concentrate at a desk.
So I saw a job posted on the city's website at the recommendation of my sister who was so graciously helping me look. Probably because it was also in her best interest so I could pay my half of the rent. The Cemetery. I was nervous and excited. It was an outdoor, hands on job. I'd never had one before. Would I be any good? It was kind of an unspoken expectation of myself. My father was outdoors in the harshest weather for 30 years. All I had was cushy office jobs. I'm an active guy but would I fit in to the blue collar world?
It turns out I was. I love it. But it was seasonal. I didn't make enough a week. So what else? I needed a new car. I got one. I can barely afford it. Adverts for ride sharing constantly in my face. Lyft. Genius.
"I can do that. Can't I? I can do that. But I'm not a talkative guy. Well, you weren't, but you've gotten better at shooting the shit these last few years." Was the monologue in my head. Somehow, I did it. Probably out of outright fear of financial turmoil. I was already in it. So I worked the cemetery 7am to 3:30pm days. Drove home, showered, and drove assholes around until the wee hours of the morning. Or rather, until 10 or 11 until I wanted to die, pass out, or slowly roll home with my tail between my legs from fucking up so badly. This is my life now. Overdrafting to buy gas to make money that night so I can afford a loaf of bread in the morning, a haircut, or a 3 month overdue storage bill. Fuck things. Things suck.
My life is living in constantly rolling seas of late notices, lean notices, bills, warnings, last calls, and charges. These companies waste so much paper and postage on me I could kill half my debt with it if they never sent it. It's only a collage.