My Job is Cooler Than Your Job!

My Job is Cooler Than Yours, and Here is Why

  I can write this blog and work, and it still fits under my job description

  I walked two minutes to get a fresh, pineapple, orange, apple today to add to my lunch and I paid less than $2.00.

My dog and I both get to walk to work together every morning.  Everyone in my office loves her, and she loves them.

  On an average day, you might hear up to four different languages spoken in my office, and I can understand enough of all of them to tell you what is going on.

There are three mango trees on our office property with tons of fresh mangos for the eating.

A few weeks ago I had a “business meeting” under the shade of a banana plantation.

Pretty much anywhere I go for a “business trip,” I come back with loads of free food; given to me because of the generosity of the people I work for.

I am at work.  Unlike you, I am not sitting inside an air-conditioned office with a tiny window to keep me from going insane.  I am sitting on an open-air porch.  The rains are thinking about rolling in later.  The breeze is causing my hair to tickle the back of my neck, and the sound of our rooster is keeping me grounded. 

 This morning, my job included sorting through Toy Story puzzles. 

I live in a world where a text message can make someone’s day.  It can change the mood of their whole week for the better. 

My co-workers do not bitch about “first world problems,” all we crave is a hand written note from a loved one at home.

I work as part of a team of three, and there appears to be some sort of unwritten goal that you need to make the team laugh, HARD, before one of the other ones does. 

Giving is a large part of my job.  I have to make sure that our office feels like a place that any one of my 61 fellow Volunteers would want to come recharge their worn down souls.  I know why good mom’s love makes a house a home so much now.  And I didn’t have to push a single one of them out of my vagina!

My co workers and I can talk about pooping, and shitting ourselves, and sex, and periods all together.  Male or female.  Friend or Foe.  We all love those discussions.  J 

 Last week, when I was away from my real, American family, and hanging out with these 61 assholes, it still felt like Thanksgiving.   
Sometimes I have to be up and ready by 6:00 on a Saturday morning to begin a work day that won't end until 8:00 at night, and it has never once actually felt like work.