For a little while, I had a job that could have been a
career. I say that because it’s the only job I’ve ever had that had more than
just insurance benefits and vacation. I have written a few times about working
at the Kemp's ice cream factory in Rochester, but I will expound here a little
more.
I was drug and alcohol free when I started there, so I
easily passed the drug test to get hired on. It was that big change in my life,
though, that I believe was the catalyst for my relapse shortly thereafter. I
was far away from any of the people that cared about me. I didn’t have a
support network there, so I made the decision that I could try controlled
drinking, I just wasn’t sure when. I waited a while, and during a relationship
I started with an amazing woman I thought I loved, I made plans to go on a
cruise. I’ve said this all before, so let me skip to the downfall as it relates
to work.
I came back from the cruise, broke up (I was dumped) with my
girlfriend, and really started hitting the bottle. It didn’t take long for the
urge to hit the hard stuff and that’s when I very quickly started using meth. I
had tried it before, but I had never been so financially stable that I could
afford to use all day, every day. I really took a liking to the stuff, and I
really liked the new friends that seemed to like me and my never-ending stash
of fun. Very quickly, work became a nuisance. I wanted to get high all day, and
it was annoying to have to sneak into the bathroom so often to smoke my bubble.
I started using my sick days. Then I used up all of my vacation days. And then I
found out that they gave you two days paid for funeral leave and there was no
limit to that. So, my family started dying off left and right. First my
grandparents, then an uncle. And then they called me out on my lie by asking me
to bring proof in an obituary or anything like that. And that’s when I decided I
didn’t need their stupid job with benefits, and I could sell meth full time to
pay the bills.
Which brings me to my next job: Meth Dealer. It came with no
benefits. I did however lose my real friends, contact with my family, weight,
respect, self-esteem, all of my worldly possessions, a car, someone else’s car,
my apartment, my real job, my status as a college student, oh yeah, and all of
my fucking money that I thought would pay the bills, and so much more. Every
penny I made went right back into “The Game.” Don’t get me wrong, there were
days where I made thousands, but that would just make me want to party harder.
I started sleeping in hotels which became very expensive, not just because the
room was expensive, but because I would invite people over to get high for free.
Well I guess it wasn’t free. I never
really understood how I could afford to spend $100 a night for a room, but not
$500 a month for rent. Ugh.
As a drug dealer, I was needed constantly. I drove all day,
all night, sometimes for three or four days straight. From city to city, and
back. To my dealer’s house, and all over again. It was constant.
Shortly after I had an accident in which I woke up hurtling
through the air at 70mph, I was helped into making the decision to quit. A
friend of a friend came to get me from Rochester and brought me to a small town
about 45 minutes south called Fountain. I didn’t know it at the time, but this
is the area I would live in for many years, and I would make some great
friends, and make some great stories.
Alright folks, I still have a couple more posts to do on
jobs, but I do have some big news coming up so get ready to be excited for me!
Until next time…
