The union dude just called, and offered me work: I start Monday morning, at the construction site of the local hospital’s new wing. I called the foreman to get the details, and it was so much more low-key than I expected: He told me I’ll need boots, but they have hardhats for workers, and then said that he supposed I don’t have tools, seeing as I’m at the start of my career. “No,” I told him, “I actually have a lot.”
At the moment when the phone had rung, I was standing in my driveway, refinishing a scavenged solid wood headboard that I’m turning into a patio bench. Um, yes, I have tools.
“Well,” the foreman said, “You’ll just want hand tools… Also, maybe a hacksaw.”
“Sure thing,” I replied. Not really sure if I do have a hacksaw, but I might, or maybe Oats does. At any rate, I’m buying new wire strippers this weekend to celebrate, because I hate the ones I already have. Also, I lied when I said I had steel-toed boots: They are also on my shopping list.
I found out via a certain online social network that a really great guy from my program also got hired to start at the same time, and I’m stoked that I’ll have a friend on the job. Also, this worksite has been mentioned several times in conversations I’ve been having with assorted union folks and career counsellor people, who have all specifically mentioned to me that there are a lot of women working at it. Which is nice, really: I’m glad to at least start with the illusion that there’ll be less sexist bullshit to deal with.
Am still hopeful that I’ll hear from hydr0, of course… Or even the dockyards, because it’s more steady than anything in construction. Hell, I don’t even know what shifts I’ll be working, or how much I’ll be paid, or when this contract ends!
At the moment though, I don’t really care: I think about where I was at a year ago and am just kinda amazed that this has happened:
That I quit a “good job”
and ran away to Australia
and came home
and went to trade school
and depended on the financial support of my partner
and spent months ranting to my friends
and blogged about homophobia/sexism a whole ton
and then had 6 weeks of moping about the house before I finally began to feel like myself again
and now I’m actually going to be paid to be an electrician.
In retrospect, it seems so easy.