The Moving Moving Experience

Since the start of my debacle I say yes to every job that is offered to me. Especially since I noticed that I can’t eat the papers that in my earlier life were the proof of my “high” education. I applied at a agency for part time jobs and my cell phone is lying next to my pillow, as you never know when somebody is calling for a job. The girls from the agency know that they can count on me and if there is anything to do I just jump into my pants and go for it.

Two weeks ago I got one of these calls. Together with 34 other guys we moved a whole retirement home to a new location. Yes, working as a mover. After sitting for 21 years at a desk this is a totally different piece of cake.

Everything was well organized, though I got different instructions every three minutes. Spread over three days different older people from different departments were moved. Every room was marked with a sheet that had the color for the day of movement.
As I’m interested in people and their behavior I had a lot to study this days.

There was one kind of moving experience when I was on my way to one of the elevators. An old lady (one of those who seem to break if you touch them) opened one of the doors that were marked for the next day. She asked me if I had a minute. In the first place I was a little afraid that the lady would waste my time, because I know from experience that a minute can become very long once they start talking. I nodded and listened to her anyway. She showed me a closet and asked as she would be moved the next day, if she had to take it apart for us. Can you imagine that? She asked if she had to take it apart.

I guaranteed her that this would not be necessary at all and that we would take care of everything. Of course I knew that this wasn’t really her concern. She just needed the brief attention of somebody. I gave her this minute. For you and me it’s maybe not easy to imagine, but I’m sure that giving this old lady a smile and a little attention made her day. And in the end I found this moving and heart warming.

I gave it a second thought while I was moving beds, closets and other stuff with the elevator: are we all becoming kind of insane during our life?

I looked at it in this steps:

1.) We are born without any evil in us. In the ideal circumstances we are loved by our parents and are glad that somebody is taking care of us, even though we don’t see it as such.

2.) We grow up and hunting like maniacs after all the things in life we considering making us happy and better persons. Sometimes we even forget about humanity, loosing our path, loosing ourselves and in the worst case we get totally fucked up.

3.) If we don’t die during our hunting for the above, we end up in one of these retirement homes and slightly becoming more human again. The only hunt then is the one for a little human warmth and a good word. Nothing else matters.

What do you think? Maybe I just think too much, as my friend Pedro says from time to time…

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