Friday, May 9, 2008
My last shift started good. I started to get things back, my technique and shape, and began to feel good about it. I felt a competition growing in me. My quads were starting to fill out my pants. The weight of the trees around my hips seemed less overbearing. My hands were hurting, but getting harder. The first two days of the shift saw me steadily improving, numbers wise.
On the third day of the second shift I walked into a particularly ugly peice of land. In it, there were hundreds of boulders and fallen trees, two steep reveens and four small lakes. I couldn't find any soil. Every time I threw my shovel at the ground I would here a metallic 'TING' and feel vibrations run through my body. I didn't know where to plant good trees. .
After a few hours of this, Kayla came into my land to check my trees, as is her job as my boss. Nearly all of them were unacceptable. She said "Quality is a priority, and makes a reputation as much as quantity. If our trees aren't good enough, we can fail a block and not get paid as a company."
It went for almost two days until the piece was in passable shape. Anger swooped around inside. Kept thinking 'why am I here and what am I doing with my life?' and 'I hate this'. Rehearsed variations of 'fuck you I quit' speeches. I would like to have cried, but couldn't. 'What would a shovel sound like connecting with a human face.' I lay down for a while. If a bear had come to maul me I might not have minded. If he left me with a big scar across my face and a brush with death. I imagined myself, rugged. My scar would scare people, but I would be nice about it. 'I was mauled by a bear.’ People would remember me.