late night ramble

Do you ever have a night where you just can't sleep because your mind is racing? I do. This is the result.

My adventure itself is something to behold. I have no fucking idea what the fuck is going to happen next. I know that this isn't an easy way to go about life. I also know many people that could not do what I did. I don't blame them. I must have a very strong belief that good will happen if I can just quit my job, move away from home, my friends and my family.

I do believe. I believe something great will come of this. I suppose the best part is that I really don't know what it's going to be. Seems to be my life story.

I remember working for lighthouse brewery, delivering beer downtown Victoria. I would have about twenty five or thirty stops a day. Needless to say, I was interacting with lots of people everyday. Now my job was by no means glamorous, but it was pretty decent. I got to drive around all day and deliver fucking beer. Some of my fellow beer driving friends did not feel the same why I did. I'd always run into the other beer delivery dudes around town. The main dudes I would see were from the other local brewery's, however there were a few union, big company beer guys that visited regularly as well. Those guys were classic. I had to hand bomb all my beer off my truck. These guy had it so easy, or so I thought. They had power everything. A power gate, a power jack, and power depression, The following is a monologue from a large man, from one of the large union breweries.

"Fuck man, I fucking hate doing this fucking stop." He takes a drag from his cigarette as we both stand behind the liquor store.
"Fuck this shit man. This is fucking shitty. I hate this job man, i really do. My back is fucked... My knee is really fucked. I bust my ass all day for this shit. Do you know how many kegs I had to deliver today? ?? 86. 86 mother fucking kegs on my truck this morning. Fuck that man. I don't have a fucking swamper or nothing. I did a 28 keg drop at Irish times today. That's a lot man. That sucks. I hate it when i have to do that shit man. That's another shitty fucking stop. Fucking Irish times. They go through so much fucking beer every fucking week. Fuck them man. And fucking St.Patricks day is fucking coming up soon, that will be a another week in fucking hell for me. Fucking hate st.Patrick's day. Fuck.... So... How is your day going?

How the fuck do I follow that?

"It's fine... It's fine"

Anyways, that gives you an idea of some of the weird and fucked up people i met. And that dude was a nice enough guy, don't get me wrong, he just hated his job. I remember something else he and the others would say that really disturbed me.

"I'm just living the dream man, living the dream."

I'd hear that line from a lot of people in one day. They all truly hated their jobs. They were not living their dream. That made me sick.

I do not want to become this miserable person. That is one of the reasons I was able to pack up and leave everything, and everyone behind. It was not easy, but something I had to do for myself. Whatever lies ahead must surely be beautiful if I am truly living my dream.

I know I am very lucky. Not everyone is in the position to just pack up and do whatever they want like I did. Most people have very important shit going on. They have boyfriends and girlfriends, husbands and wives. Houses and condos, kids and school. Cats and dogs, a loan and a pool. I have nothing but love and respect for these people. I know I could lead a great life right now if I had a wife and a kid. My dreams of being a funny man would fade into wanting to watch my child grow old. I think that it would happen naturally. But for now I have no wife, no kid, and not a lot of responsibility. So my childhood dream lives on. Here I am.