Not Never Working

I’m never not working even when I’m alone away from all of it and nowhere near metal. In recent days as if it should take so long to grasp, I think about how I’ve never had a real job or at least one that’s lasted more than a couple of months, certainly never one I got a weekly check for. The longest I lasted anyplace after leaving The Peddie School was less than a year. And while it was real, it wasn’t. I wasn’t even yet twenty. I’m thinking about my life as a bicycle maker – one I didn’t plan I never planned – is just one long full immersion. Me being delivered each year to the one that follows. It’s what I’m used to. I don’t know anything else. But as much as the lack of a boss or staff to answer to makes me feel different than a day worker or someone with a career I don’t spend time dwelling on it. Except for now. As in, tonight. And in the morning I’ll continue where I left off. Thing is I can’t recall being away long enough to leave anything off. But none of it is work. It’s not work. It’s what I do. My life (so far).

All This By Hand
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