I guess one can and would speculate, why anyone with a college degree would deliver food as a source of income? The only thing I can think of at the moment is peace of mind. Every morning I rise with the sun and take a cold shower. I do not know how my day will go and I do not know what my first delivery will be. All I know is that I need to be done by 3 pm because the hot streets become race tracks. Anxious drivers and Karen moms with "pray the rosary" bumper stickers on their extremely large soccer trucks, race to pick up their kids and dinner; practically pummeling over "Scooter", the Yorkie mix that squeezed out of his gate again, and groups of teens walking with their heads down doom scrolling through social media. Red lights have lost their significance as drivers shove thru, expecting drivers at the green light to wait a little longer.
The soul-sucking 9 to 5 gig has sucked the last drop from my soul, and I refuse to go back. You apply on indeed, flaunt your lengthy and impressive resume, get hired, and just like you hoped you find yourself sitting at a desk or behind a counter repeating the same robotic shift you ran away from the last time. Some would call it making a living or simply being a responsible adult. I call it fucking insanity. Consumerism has awarded the customer an entitlement because they can never be wrong. A place where you feel validated and socially correct? Take my money! -sarcasm. Nonetheless, you will definitely return to an establishment that had your best interest at heart. While you're there make sure to swipe that credit card, after all, you owe them that much.
The obnoxious co-workers who act like high school children and quickly turn against you if you choose to eat lunch alone. Remember in high school when you did everything you could to sit at Regina George's table and now you eat in your car just to avoid Regina and her brainless crew trying to belong? Most days I would sit in my truck and read a book or meditate. Sometimes I felt my I.Q leaving my body and hitching a ride with my soul to another planet failure. After reading countless books on human behavior, sociology, and oppression I have realized how horrible and fraudulent people can be. Between embracing an academic lifestyle and the opening of my third eye through meditation, the more I accept that I do not belong anywhere. Why are we conditioned to feel the need to belong anyway? I'm sure Maslow's hierarchy would disagree, but sticking to yourself is not catastrophic.
I mean sure, I have to work physically harder to earn my money through Door Dash and Uber Eats, but guess what? You avoid the bitchy co-worker that walks in every morning with the "I just stepped in shit" face and "I hate my fucking life because of my own fault" attitude. You don't have to sit by that mess for 8 hours smiling because it's polite to do so. Chill out girlfriend, it's called a menstrual cycle, they happen to the best of us! Sure, sometimes you bump into those cranky workers when you pick up food orders, but it's only for a few minutes or seconds and you walk right out with 4 subs and your dignity. Food brings happiness, and when your customer is waiting anxiously for their food, you receive a warm smile and genuine gratitude. The days can be hot and sometimes the miles can get long, but I have the freedom to change my environment and protect my precious energy at any given moment.
Being an empath can be very draining if you don't protect your energy. I worked in the automotive industry for almost a decade and feminists are not lying about that squeaky clean glass ceiling (this is where you burn your bra, or socks). I hate socks! Oh, sure there is always room for growth, but only penises are meant to grow. And sadly, in this patriarchal world, it's not about what you know but about who you blow. Well, I am fresh out of blow jobs, and I am fresh out of shits. I would just like to add that there is nothing wrong with a blow job, but they surely have no place in my journey towards success.
After 10 long years of mastering every position in the automotive industry and getting paid significantly less than men, obtaining a bachelor's degree in Multidisciplinary Studies, a very long redundant year of grad school in a mental health counseling program, the start of a completely different grad degree in education and social justice that was waaay to left for me, returning to the counseling program (god, I need therapy), and trying to master my attempt of becoming a professional writer I find myself delivering pizza, clear blue pregnancy tests, and coffee. What the fuck am I doing? I'm door dashing with a degree. Life's equation of being successful makes no sense and in the meantime, I have removed myself from it.