Construction? More Like Soul Deconstruction

Margaret 2m 390

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Read This Confession To Me

“So, what are you going to do when you grow up?”

Fairly easy question, yes?

Well, not so much. I went to school to be an English teacher. Why? Well, love kids…like to read…made sense. But seven years after graduation, I find myself a construction project manager for a firm in downtown Chicago.

I often like to tell others I work at the place that has stolen my soul. And youth.

If ever a lady wants to work in an inappropriate environment, a construction office is the place to be. I hear more about lady bits, one night stands, and detailed descriptions of various sex acts (I will admit some of these things are funny…and sometimes I tell a few of my own)than I have ever wanted to hear. Really guys? First of all, we are at work…sometime-sharing is okay…all the time sharing is not.

I hear (and smell) farting at every turn. Get asked if “it is my time of the month” if I am not super duper chipper, and let’s not forget the unequal pay.

Now, perhaps it is my own fault for working for the same company for almost a decade. Or maybe I shouldn’t have been so old-school about learning on the job and putting in my dues.

All I do know, is that I am more in the business of not stabbing my fellow employees then I am in the business of building offices (which, by the way, is not such a shabby way to make a living).

I feel like my soul gets sucked out of my body on a daily basis and has a mexican hat dance performed on it. And beneath my apple cidar flavored chapstick smile and pleasant “I am just glad to have a job smile”, I really wish my office was more professional. I mean, it is one of the coolest kind of jobs to have.

But then you toss in those stinky, rude, sexist boys – well…they just muck it all up.

Or? Am I the one who shouldn’t be there?

Either way. I like to think my woes are nothing a good dirty martini won’t fix. If martini turns into moonshine jug, well then – we have a greater problem at hand. Or at the very least, a funnier one.