I worked 14 hours today. Having been unemployed (meaning: not having a fulltime job) I am grateful for the work. I surf a lot and often read the blogs of people that are unfulfilled with their work or career. One lady was saying that while she was highly paid, the “job” was not within her area of “expertise” and she was considering quitting to “get into her field”. Normally, I would just move on but for some reason, I was fixated on that statement. ” Now within my chosen area of training…”
As a college grad, I am aware of the fact that BA’s are the new high school diploma. Masters degrees are almost expected. When I quit my job 4 years ago and moved to Scandinavia, I knew several things for sure…that I would do what ever I had to do to help my family stay intact and that I would no longer be enslaved to the credit card debt (that ate up my salary and took almost 29,000 dollars of the profit we recognized from the sale of the house.)
It’s been hard. I take lots of nonsense and humble pie is a regular dish at my job. In America, I would not have been caught dead doing what I do now. My arogance was quickly replaced in Maslo’s hierachy by the need to survive. Before, the electric bill came and it went right out. Now, we have to decide, “can this wait 2 more weeks”? There is only ONE pay day in Sweden. Everyone gets paid on the 25th of the month…I have no idea why. Those that have children receive a monthly stipend called barnbidrag which literally translates to child support. It comes from the state and everyone, regardless of how rich you are, is entitled to it. It averages to about $135.00 per child but increases the more children you have. The 20th of the month you typically see all of the parents out shopping for the kids. The children receive what is called weekly money (vecko pengar). Most kids do nothing for it. It is their God given right because the Swedish government says they should… They usually buy saturday candy (lördags godis) and what ever else they desire. My kids are not so lucky….They have a list of chores that need to be done in order to receive their allowance. Democracy is sorely limited inside the confines of this house, which I liken to an embassy…meaning the ground it sits on is the property of the country I deem sovereign…which is (of course) America or Great Britain since we ARE distantly related.
My son calles me today and says that his job is done, can he go out side? “Absolutely”, I reply. 9 hours later I arive home to find out that his job is not done. He was thisclose to lying to me when he admitted he had not done his job and was hoping that I would not notice. I was so happy…It’s FINALLY starting to sink in… All of the head beating, yelling and timeouts have come to a culmination. Above all else you are nothing without honor. If your word means nothing it makes no difference whether you have money or not…no one will hang around you long enough to prove yourself. That moment, my friends was worth all of the anguish, fear and regrets I have ever expoused about my son.