Light Blue Collar

For the past few day I have been working with a temporary agency hoping to find my new calling. It seems somewhere in between my initial interview and the first assigned job a communication error occurred. Throughout the years I have been fortunate enough to be employed with two great companies. These careers afforded me a comfortable lifestyle. Prior to this I was in college and worked in a factory during the summer to make ends meet. During my factory days I was a young kid working towards a college degree and didn't seem to mind the endless hours standing and working an assembly line. I didn't know any better, all I knew was that I received a check on Friday and it was good money at the time. However, I became spoiled. I finished college and spent my days making too much money at a new job for sitting in a desk chair all day. My breaks were not scheduled and I didn't have to wait for a whistle to eat lunch. In the eleven years since my college degree took me to this place I lost a certain vision of the blue collar working person. I always held respect for him or her but lost sight of what they actually do. In regards to the miscommunication, you probably guessed it, I was sent on manual labor jobs. The temp service business is apparently slow and all that is left for temporary employment are jobs that are less appealing to the average young professional. In these rough times we are forced to take positions that once seemed unthinkable to the spoiled office worker. This is both a negative and a positive. The negative being you have to work harder and longer for less pay. The positive is the point of my current rambling. Did we forget how to appreciate the hard working man? In my case I know I did. I stood on my feet all day with scheduled breaks this weekend. A personal accomplishment I had not done since my factory days. To make it clear the job was a cake walk mentally, but physically tiring. I realized while standing there in the sun working that I had become much more soiled than I thought. I giggled as my supervisor told me what time I could take a break. I laughed at the fact that I was not allowed to eat lunch when I wanted too. The normal eight hour day most of us are used to is a ten plus hour day for others. I made it home with enough blisters on my hands and feet to last me a lifetime. In this troubled economy we are doing what we have to do. I am confident that I will once again be back to the spoiled conditions I have been use to for so long, but I am more than confident that next time I see a man or woman working a construction sight, or digging a ditch I will take the time to appreciate the hard work they do to put food on the table. It is my belief that if every person at one time or another has the opportunity to work a manual labor job for one day you will learn to appreciate those people that do it everyday, and learn a little more about yourselves.