Sunday, February 21, 2010


I dread going to work on Mondays like everybody else, but at the same time, I think I appreciate my job most on the weekends. When I wake up on Saturday and think about what I did that week, I can say that I fought for something. I decided what I wanted, and spent my time and energy pushing us closer.

On Sunday when I think, "Hell. I have to go to work tomorrow," I'm also thinking, "I'll get something done this week. I know it."

People at the doors are stupid, and blind, and too preoccupied with the petty proscribed lives that they were always told they'd have, and never thought could change. But when I leave their doors, they're a little less so. It's exhausting, and I'm always a hair's breadth from not raising enough money to keep coming back to this job every day. But hell. At least it's worth doing.

Sometime this week when someone tells me that they don't get involved in this stuff, or that they don't want to talk to someone from CAC, I'm just going to smile, and tell them, "That's cool. In the end... we're going to win."

Because we will. Because we're the only ones who have something to wear ourselves out for, and that means everything. During the week I'm tired but on weekends it's easier to see what my job is for, and who I am when I'm doing it. I can get a better perspective on those things, and I really do like what I see.

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