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Writer's Block: Born to do it
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I had it. I drove a truck. I had a corner office with an ever-changing view. My boss had a volume control and an off-switch. If wanted to listen to Thrash Metal, no one complained. So long as my deliveries and vendor pick-ups were all made, no one cared how I did my job. I cam in most days exhausted, bruiseed, and with a grin on my face.
It's in the past now due to my health. Trying to do that job again would literally kill me. But I'd die happy.
I had it. I drove a truck. I had a corner office with an ever-changing view. My boss had a volume control and an off-switch. If wanted to listen to Thrash Metal, no one complained. So long as my deliveries and vendor pick-ups were all made, no one cared how I did my job. I cam in most days exhausted, bruiseed, and with a grin on my face.
It's in the past now due to my health. Trying to do that job again would literally kill me. But I'd die happy.