Closet Extremist

The Blog-Daughter makes me proud.

So...Sarah over at Because we have thumbs (My blog-spawn, fruit of my loins) had a little episode the other day. Well, I've been there, and heat stroke ain't fun. This was back when I was 21 or 22 years of age, and I was laboring for a comercial masonry company. The job entailed: Mixing mortar (Throwing 100 lb bags of it up onto the mixer), hauling block, and just generally keeping the masons happy. All for the princely sum of $5.50 an hour. During the summer, I was assisting in the construction of a twenty-plex movie theater. BIG, TALL walls with a lot of sound deadener pured down the holes, and much concrete. This was a big "job 'o work".

I recall one day when we were topping out tone of the rear walls that OSHA showed up on the jobsite. They lectured the foreman about the lack of hard hats on a certain number of the crew. I was one of the offenders. We had the scaffolding stacked up six jacks high, which equates to approximately 36 feet up in the air. When I am standing that high up, and there's nothing above me, I think it's reasonably safe to assume that nothing's gonna fall on my sweet little noggin', so I woould doff my beanie bowl, in favor of your garden variety ball cap. After the powers that be got done with their inspection, I was up there wearing my turtle-top like a good boy. Did I mention the 120 degree heat indexes? I thought not.

Once I started to feel a bit woozy, I excused myself and carried my butt down to the ground. After I got myself a cool drink of water, I realized that I had drank too much, too fast, too cold. I had me a little 20 minute sit down in the shade. It tought me an important lesson. Listen to your body. It'll inform you when things are about to go awry. Learn the signals, and do the proper thing to avoid it in the future. I completed that job, and went on to the next one to "line out" the help that was fucking up a Celebration Station ( a Chuck-E-Cheez's on steroids. Batting cages, video games, go-cart track, the works.).

Now that I'm back into the "real work" game, I take a few precautions. Always take a bunch of liquids with you to the job. In the morning, I stop off for a 20 oz. coffee, and I get myself a 1 liter Coca-Cola to tide me through the day. Sometimes I actually finish it, but mostly I don't. It's not about what you have, but what you may potentially need. Just recognize the problem, and prepare for it. That's the difference between a professional, and a dilletante. I know you for a Pro girl. Fix it.