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_22 deliveries done.
20 deliveries remain._
And I even think I have most of those in my vehicle.
But considering how they offloaded to us dingbats, we pick up two headaches for every three packages loaded.
Today I met my driver in the parking lot of _Buena Vida Pharmacy_ roughly a full store plus two miles from where I was hired. He proceeded to drop most of his truck's packages onto the ground for me to load my compact car as full as it will allow. He then quickly warned me about dogs, and promptly left.
If there is a logic to how my current role is an integral part of the Procedure to effectively deliver packages, it it continues to be one step ahead of me at all times. Just seems like it was perhaps cheaper a business expense than hiring and fleeting "proper" drivers.
'Twas a frustrating morning, indeed. A rejection from a decent job was the driver of my frustrations, however.
But still, I can persevere, and therefore I shall. And I will try my damnest to be grateful while I do.
Whilst waiting for the second half of my route's packages, I ponder why it is that I once thought one would find purpose in one's job. It seems few jobs indeed are improving the communities around us. Only fools and liars would argue otherwise. At best, most jobs are just helping society limp forward to bleed another day.
However, the mistake I made was conflating one's _job_ with one's _work_. The jobs we can get are often flukes of condition and circumstance, and are not immune to the charms of Fortune. But we all are capable of labour within our abilities. It is here that purpose can be crafted; it is here life can be made worthwhile. Something had been obscuring my heart's vision for some time. Privilege, perhaps, or simply the Settled Life getting to me.
_Sidebar:_ The topic of Miracles is rarely broached in our society here. Whenever it is, though, I cannot help but think of something such as a single working-class parent raising a child or two. Not divine enough for the theologically inclined, and not inexplicable enough for the biologically inclined, but a miracle enough to me. Heck, the fact that anyone loves any one of us is miracle enough for me. Perhaps it even could be for us all.
Back home, I find myself in a complaining mood again. It sickens me so. I will not become a mere complainer. And I have the forthcoming feast to remind me of this.
I attempt to write a bit in our neighbourhood's dog park but little comes to mind. Besides, a book just arrived in the mail and my Thanksgiving break has officially just begun. I will enjoy a little walk with the post-sunset breeze instead.
Besides, I am pretty hungry.