I was reading an article or listening to a podcast about leisure, specifically about how much leisure time a person has and how closely it is related to a person’s quality of life. It is a highly accurate measure – parallel to one’s quality of life. You aren’t even looking at race, gender, and economic status because by just looking at leisure time – it says a lot. It isn’t always accurate of course, but often.

People used to have to work six out of the seven days just to survive, and they worked 12-16 hours a day to do so. I am talking about for generations. The industrial revolution changed that.

How we looked at life pre and post WWI and WWII changed that. The assembly line changed that; electricity, the toaster, air conditioners, washer and dryers, microwaves, the refrigerator, vacuum cleaners, the typewriter – on up.

I have been watching the history of inventions and it is quite interesting. Surprisingly the late 1800s and through the early 1900s, they were doing some amazing things. Mostly because I think they just got sick and tired of doing the same thing and usually the hard way. Literally, they just sat there, fraught with exhaustion and dehydration and thought – there has to be a better way, and, of course, there was.

We are living it up.

One year I had eight W2s. I worked a lot that year because I needed to work. This was pre-radiology. This is why I have never regretted doing into radiology and if I didn’t pick radiology I would have probably picked another 2-year degree just to elevate my quality of life as quickly as I could.

To be fair, I worked two or three quick jobs that year. On campus, they advertised “Work today, get paid tomorrow.” That place was great. I could walk in, among many other college kids and get assigned temp jobs all over the city.

I did this catering gig for a few events. The only requirements were to wear black pants and shoes, a white shirt, and arrive on time. The job was pretty dummy proof as long as you didn’t drop any dishes or spill coffee on people.

One of the most different kind of jobs I have done, and my brother can probably attest to as well, was working for an inventory service. We inventoried for big box stores mostly – however, at times we did smaller businesses: Target, Home Depot, Bed Bath and Beyond, Joann Fabrics, Sears, etc.

I did this job when I was sixteen and then again when I was nineteen. You had a counting machine on your hip and the challenge was time and accuracy. When you went to a job site, we could be gone for 10, 12, 14-hours. Usually, the shift started in the evening and went until the job was done.

I remember when I wanted to do this job and my mom protested a little. I said something to the effect, Aaron did it. This job allowed me to buy my first car with my own money.

The beginner counters had to do the hair do-doodads, which were just annoying and cumbersome. In the hardware stores, the buckets of screws and bolts. Painful. As my time and accuracy improved I was assigned better aisles.

Soon, I would be flying down hardware, health and beauty, children’s toys, food aisles, housewares, etc. A more skilled counter would double-check some of my aisles, tag them to make sure I didn’t mess up.

Over time I grew an extreme disliking for Bed Bath and Beyond. I remember crawling into these strange attic spaces, hot and breathless, and pop open these doors into the storeroom reaching, pulling, and pushing to count pillows and just ridiculous things. The ladders were so tall and I am not afraid of heights – but there was a point where you are hanging and stretching like a monkey and you have this moment, I could really hurt myself.  Eventually, I just stopped signing up for those gigs.

An oddity of the job was years later I would walk into a store and have a Deja vu moment. I would look around and be like I was here. Probably sometime in my late teens and in the middle of the night. 

Targets were the best – because they fed you in the middle of the night. Huge spread. Sandwiches, pizza, sodas, candy, etc. I wasn’t full-blown diabetic yet, so I enjoyed some Skittles in the middle of the night.

One day the lead counter said that he wanted me to do jewelry. That means, my numbers were good – but I had no interest in doing jewelry. Those people never talked. I mean never. They whispered at times, but hardly ever used their real voices – you know the voice that comes from your voice box.

I didn’t know if someone told them they couldn’t talk, the rest of us talked. Also, security was always watching them. Maybe they always felt those watchful eyes and didn’t want to talk. It was all strange.

And just the annoyance of opening those cases and handling the pieces. I would much rather count shampoo and not worry if I dropped a bottle and spun under the shelves never to be found.

So, I quit. I gave my two-weeks notice.

I was only assigned jewelry once during that two-week period and over the course of the night, I slowly wandered over to the women’s shoes and handbags and further away until the head counter walked by, “What are you doing over here?” “Counting.”

During this same period of time, I did a couple CF research studies. One was for the safety of the med. I question that one today. However, it did go to market and I had no problem with it. They monitor you like nuts. I got $700 for 4-nights and 5-days at the research center at the U of M. That was a lot of money.

I did this other one, the Buzz Lightyear study I call it. It was something to do with diabetes. They placed a helmet over my head and I remember giggling thinking, Well this is an interesting situation. It was a gigantic helmet; clear and plastic and looked like Buzz Lightyear. I wore it for a while.

They measured oxygen and carbon dioxide, took blood, of course, height and weight, and all that stuff. It was the same time frame as the other one and I got about the same amount of money.

Leisure – that is the point of this:

How much leisure time do you have? By separating your leisure time from your work time – hopefully, for the grace of God, you have more leisure time than working time.

That you don’t have eight W2s, or five, or four. That you can sit back and enjoy the sun and the gifts of what hard work has granted you.

I will never take anything for granted. Not a thing. I personally will always probably have two to three W2s. I enjoy the variety. I am far away, but not really that far away from that young girl who refused to hang from rafters and wandered away because counting shoes and handbags were far more interesting than hanging out with the silent mob.

“What are you doing?”

“Counting.”