Fishy Hands


I spent hours with some of the most beautiful animals I had ever seen. Word of choice: majestic.

But they “gotta eat.” (Checkers commercial nod. Yes, I’m a dork.)

So… When I arrived at work, my first priority was breaking a part a block of chum, that was nearly the size of a double sink, with my bare hands and some hot water. Working at a ‘mini Sea World’ is not as glamorous as you’d think. I smelled bad, and my hands, that were cut up from sharp scales and bones, smelled of fish, always.

So, I relied on lemons.

They were my new best friends until I became a waitress. I still have a secret hatred for condiments to this day. I cut dozens upon dozens of lemons at the beginning of each shift that often turned into a double so I’d leave covered in a bit of egg, some kind of fried meat, and beer.  The tips were great though! Especially from the business men who tried to nonchalantly slip into the gentleman’s club next door after their meal during their lunch hour. Maybe they were practicing. Lol.

A designer sunglass store also employed me for a bit. What were they thinking? I am not the best salesperson, but I did enjoy heating the sunglass frames with some crazy contraption in the back of the store so that they would actually fit a customers face nice and snug. I convinced myself it was a craft, and it was the far better alternative than rubbing fingerprints off the countless pairs of glasses on display, which was one of my main duties.

And now, I’m in TV news…something I’ve told you all about already.

Here’s what I think… regardless of what you do, focusing on the little things… the little victories.. the little bits of enjoyment as you work your butt off is your best bet.

It’s called work for a reason. It’s not supposed to be fun all of the time or even at all, but working through it is key. There is nothing better than finally landing on your couch after a long day at work and feeling that sense of pride and fulfillment.

You worked hard, it looked good, and you got paid. Now, for some sleep…. well, a little sleep. I’m always craving a little more one-on-one time with my mattress, and I fear I’m not alone.

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2 comments February 10, 2013 at 4:41 am

i enjoyed your writing and love seeing your pictures at work — you are becoming quite a philosopher love grandpa

Matt January 28, 2014 at 1:54 pm

I heard once that to be happy as a painter you gotta like to “smush the paint”. Every job has tedium and if you hate it you will not be happy.

Your post made me think of that.


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