After unloading a trailer and pickup truck full of lumber this morning my arms hung down to the ground.
It took 3 minutes to get enough strength back just to wipe my runny nose.
Then came the hard part - cleaning out last week's post holes and planting more 10 ft. long cedar posts.
However, I persevered, and even made life more enjoyable by praising my co-worker when I could.
“That’s the best looking post hole I’ve ever seen, George,” I said with some regularity (and you know how important it is to be regular).
Sure, while George leveled posts and reviewed our measurements I had to deliver the next bag of cement and post with my weary, six-ft. long arms, which I hated, but I continued to dish out positive comments.
“That post looks perfectly straight,” I’d say. Good work.”
I swear, George grew more cheerful and worked harder - even than me, and I had the huge arms.
I’m hoping George invites me back just to be conscientious observer next time. If it pays a good hourly rate - I’m in.
***
What are the odds? Is the perfect job out there for me?
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