All in a days work

   Working like a mule for days that seem never to end. The pieces of meat once my muscles are living in their private hell. Hundreds and hundreds of bending overs have unhinged something that needs oil. My feet absorb my weight all day and cry for a seat that won't come quickly.

   Sitting on the tailgate of my truck, I slowly eat a sandwich and wash it down with Gatorade and a smoke. It's during those small breaks I ask myself how much longer will I pretend to be decades younger? When will I accept that my time for all of this has expired and I'm working on fumes in an empty tank?

   At the end of another day when everything hurts, and I look at the progress I only think of tomorrow and maybe the finish line of yet another project. I half-heartedly tell myself that this was the last job, time to act my age and slow it down.

   The phone rings as I'm soaking my aching feet in Epson salts trying to decide if an hour was long enough? Its a potential customer who says a friend recommended me and he'd like me to stop by tomorrow to give a quote.Sure, why not?

   Morning came with soreness that had no mercy, but the coffee was waiting and the day was nothing but blue skies and opportunity. I go    Working like a mule for days that seem never to end. The pieces of meat once my muscles are living in their private hell. Hundreds and hundreds of bending overs have unhinged something that needs oil. My feet absorb my weight all day and cry for a seat that won't come quickly.

   Sitting on the tailgate of my truck, I slowly eat a sandwich and wash it down with Gatorade and a smoke. It's during those small breaks I ask myself how much longer will I pretend to be decades younger? When will I accept that my time for all of this has expired and I'm working on fumes in an empty tank?

   At the end of another day when everything hurts, and I look at the progress I only think of tomorrow and maybe the finish line of yet another project. I half-heartedly tell myself that this was the last job, time to act my age and slow it down.

   The phone rings as I'm soaking my aching feet in Epson salts trying to decide if an hour was long enough? Its a potential customer who says a friend recommended me and he'd like me to stop by tomorrow to give a quote.Sure, why not?

   Morning came with soreness that had no mercy, but the coffee was waiting and the day was nothing but blue skies and opportunity. I got the job and would start tomorrow. Not enough time to recover  t the job and would start tomorrow. Not enough time to recover from the last one but, bills didn’t pay themselves and food didn’t magically appear in the fridge.

   My two-person crew showed up at first light looking tired and sore, but with smiles on their faces because I had told them more than once I was decades older than them and if I could get it done, well they should try and keep up.

Life throws us lemons and age is one of them, but how we perceive time is what separates the go-getters from the want to relax type. I believe that as long as I can grease the wheels and dominate the pain, I will continue to rise with the sun and put in a hard day's work. Just got to quit climbing those damn ladders.

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