Excuse me. Who thinks statements like that, in this day and age?
Surely that statement should have been drawled circa 1904 by a dusty rancher warming his hands around a steaming cup of coffee, squinting a little as he gazed out over the plains through the kitchen window before looking back over his shoulder at the sleepy, strapping boy sitting at the kitchen table who was trying to smooth down his hair with his hands before his aproned mother carried the hot gravy over from the wood cook stove?
Just for fun, I checked my activities from this day two years ago, when I was still a busy PR consultant. Here's what I was juggling that day:
- Helping a group of clients select a political consultant to help them with a home rule issue
- Working with three reporters on stories related to a pet rescue event, redevelopment plans for a commercial property, and publicity for a walk/run benefiting kids with life-limiting illness
- Coordinating with Game & Fish on a mule deer study
- Discussing our agency's intern duties
- Helping an editor find a masterplanned community to feature when a planned profile fell through for the newspaper at the last minute
I'd wager I didn't get rained on at work that day in history, nor was I likely wearing a denim shirt with quilted lining while ticking my way down my task list for the day. And while I thoroughly enjoyed my work, I'm also certain I didn't end the day proud of the twinges in my shoulders, back and hands that signalled I'd put a little muscle in to my day and earned every ache and pain.
Of course, I probably didn't come home with twigs in my hair that day, either. It's all a trade off.
Love from the farm,