Why I Love Surveying (or, Almost Fucking Died, Today...)

creature

plastic wingnut in a microwave
Banned
Well.. maybe this should be in "making a living", but since I almost died,imma little confused...

anyways..
ever work with an asshole, but nonetheless friendly, likable asshole, who is so much of an asshole that they are fucking dangerous to just fucking *be* around?

Holy fucking shit...

This job is goddamned *great*..
Fields, hills, 6 hours of off road driving a day, wildlife.. 26,000 acres of Beauty..

3 people, & no one is a serious *personality* asshole..

To do this job right, however, requires technical competence, deference to each other's opinions (in at least as much as letting people just finish fucking talking, much less actually *listening*, which means to not *assume* you understand another person's opinion, but actually are willing to *think* about it..) and a sense of where your fucking feet are on the ground in relation to where you were in relation to where you actually fucking *are*..

We do shit, if not actually in the goddamned fucking wilderness, well then at least where it takes 2 fucking hours to get back to a goddamned *road*..

Anyways..

Almost went down to thirst &/or heat stroke..

Fuck, man..

Where you stare at rocks, gather your balls together for the next 40 feet of a 2000 climb up the *next* fucking 65° degree slope, dehydrating because the asshole you work with has about 1 fucking FOURTH of your experience, but since he has been there 2 months longer somehow has the brains to drink all the fucking water & wander 1/2 a fucking mile away, ALREADY having missed the target point by over a 1000 fucking feet, because HE CANNOT READ A GODDAMNED FUCKIBG COMPASS or.. or ..**OR** his goddamned fucking centimeter grade $20,000 GPS that will wag its tail like a goddamned DOG for him, if he would JUST FUCKING LOOK AT IT!!!!

but no..
looking & listening are too much.
we have to *prove*
to fucking *PROVE* we are better than anything else, so that means we have to *disagree* with whatever makes sense, because if someone *else* thinks it is right, *we* can't be better than them, can we, unless we prove they are fucking *wrong* by doing.. doooooiiiiinnnggg..... something
*different*, even if there is clearly ONLY one thing that can be right, because it doesn't prove, therefore, that *MY* (whomever me or 'they' may be, as I start to Bless the Rocks & they Glow fir me, with their singular, tiny identity & how they are of what all ever was, & I thank the Almighty for this little patch of bushy shade & say "well..this is a good place to die.. thank you for not only for the possiby poisonous & muddy water I was able to dip my hat into, but thank you for the adventures I have had, & if I die now, forgive me, but.. what a pain in the ass.. hopefully my family will realize I died being in the kind of place I loved being in"
Having crawled though gorse, grass, gorge & stone, eyes peeled for rattle snakes..

to where all I can tell my ass for the next fucking hour is "ok.. just another 5 feet", leaving my brick hammer behind, my work belt behind, my tool holster behind & every other piece of personal gear I could reasonably drop..

Shit..

So I climb, already having shit to drop the weight of waste & think "yeah, baby.. surveying.."

Holy Fuck..

Something similar went down 20some years ago, also in deep ravines..

I was younger & it was actually worse, but only by about 10 minutes, I think..
Christ..

Anyways..

Glowy shit where you talk to God about dying, though unscripted, may be good..

No clue, but I'm not dead..

Come Monday comes a talk down.

Still.. this goddamned job is sweet & good..

& she is worth a goddamned boat, by far...
 
I can so see you out there, hear you out there. Holy shit dude!

<breathe> <exhale>

I'm aiming at October dude - keep that jambo smile on yer face and <breathe>
 
Damn. Good to hear you are okay, and sorry to have heard I missed you by a couple days when I made it out to the slabs.
 
Good luck getting that boat, hope things worked out with how they run their job. It's wild the money industrial contracting can waste. We got a $50,000 4 gas monitor that probably brushed teeth as a feature.
Never used it. Didn't need it. Broke 3 months later.
 
Back
Top