Working For THE MAN

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I really do not want to go to work this morning. I know I am not alone and that millions of Americans feel the same way that I do, and that is, in some perverse sense, comforting. The funny thing is that right now there are probably millions of Indians with outsourced American jobs who probably feel the same way about their new jobs. Again I try to remain grateful that I am employed, but it is hard. I feel like the job I have goes counter to all of my basic values.

What I mean by this is that the largest division of my company is the petrochemical division, which of course is the oil industry. This is an industry that I oppose and I should not be involved in any company active in that field. I hate our dependence upon foreign oil and I think that if thirty years ago we had committed to really researching alternative energies we could have told the Saudis to shove it right after 9/11 and really gone after Al-Queda. In fact, to some extent, I feel that working for the company I work for is a sort of treason to the country I love.

In fact, I would go so far as to say that my working where I do is like a Southern Baptist Preacher getting a job in a Porn store. Oh, sure, he might say that his job is just to clean up and keep the Coke machine stocked, but the hypocrisy of his position is evident. I am in the same boat, preaching the environmentalism of my religious faith and working for the pollution industry.

Oil is a sickening, poisonous addiction which impacts every life in America. Our dependence makes us vulnerable to any tin pot despot or terrorist who can impact production of the drug we Americans need and crave. We have not even gotten to step one: admitted powerlessness over oil and the unmanageability of our way of life.

That’s why our kids come home in flag draped coffins.

And I’m working for they guy who polishes our pusher’s shoes.

It’s actually sickening.

These are the sort of festering resentments that my sponsor is afraid I might someday drink over. She’s right, the job is not worth my sobriety. No job is.

But before I go running to another place, I need to take time to examine this other job. I have to make sure that I am not jumping from the frying pan into the fire. This new company is more of an oversize corporate behemoth than the one I currently work for. I would be working for “the man” for sure. It could well be worse than where I am for me in terms of atmosphere.

On the other hand, it would almost certainly entail more money. Possibly $5 or $10k more per year. If I can survive whoring myself out for another couple of years, Lisa and I could be debt free, my dental work could be completed and we would be much more free to do the things we want to do.

But it is getting old, whoring myself out. It’s harder not to show my impatience. When people ask me what I think, I sometimes actually tell them.

They usually don’t like to talk with me much after that. There is this one lady I work with who asked about how I felt and I told her and she has barely had a word for me since. I think she has told others as well, because my statue of Isis sure gets a lot more glances.

Ahhh, hell with ‘em—they can go shove it (thank you, Theresa Heinz Kerry!).

Ok, time for a serious attitude adjustment before work.

Good Morning Goddess Brigit, my name is Andy and I am one of Your alcoholic children. I have been kept sober by Your grace and Your grace alone since Imbolc, 2001. I would like to thank You now for that gift of sobriety. Today is a good day to be sober.

Please, Great Mother, be with me today, all through the day and help me stay sober all day long. Show me Your will for me and grant me the Power to carry that out. Thy will, not mine be done. Inspire me to act and create in Your name. Be welcome in me and to me; body, heart, mind and soul.

Blessed be!