Two Pinched Fingers And A Bunch Of Fire Wood

I am home this evening nursing two very sore, but not smashed (luckily), fingers. My Thumb is missing a chunk of skin, but is fine. My index finger is extremely sore, but I will live. But…we got half the pile of logs split.

Now, I am extremely tired and know that my fingers won’t be the only thing sore tomorrow. 100 pounds of log does not feel very good against a finger. Neither does 1000 pounds of pressure. Makes typing a little more of a chore.

At least I can say that I do not smell like cow shit this time. I just feel like shit. And I am all out of ideas for something to eat. Yeah, you read right. I haven’t clue what to fix.

Even worse is the idea that I just don’t have the will or inclination to write much of anything. Tends to be the result of helping on the farm. Means I will have to make up for two days tomorrow. Shit. And then I will be off until after the first.

Crap. Life sucks as a taxi driver. Low pay. Long hours. No real appreciation for what you do for the company. Except from the client.

I have the nicest clients. Sure, I got to pick and choose, but I dreaded several of the past clients I had. Some asked me questions, wanted advice, I wasn’t able (or supposed) to give answers to. Others were rather pissy. Or just downright nasty in habits.

I only deal with a single client. Sure, that is the reason I do not get the best pay, but it beats risking having accidents due to sleep deprivation. It also beats having to worry if I am going to survive the day.

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