Sometimes we have to do things we don’t want to do.” –my mother
I admit it: I am a lazybones. I hate physical effort.
This has been an issue since childhood, when epic fights with my mother and grandmother ended with me stubbornly crouching in a corner, room still a mess, and them giving up in disgust.
I could tell you more stories, but the point is that my prime subconscious directive in life became to avoid work if at all possible. Of course, paying the rent sometimes forced me to go against the directive, but I rarely stuck with a job that required more effort than I was willing to give. When I finally stumbled into radio, all that changed because I was having fun — it didn’t feel like work.
But physical effort? Fuhgeddaboudit!
My prime directive was so ingrained that I didn’t even realize it until I tried to change it.
I signed up for this camp hosting job with some pretty pie-in-the-sky ideas:
- I would get to camp for free in some of the most beautiful country in the hemisphere.
- I could focus on writing the memoir I’ve been struggling with for years.
- I could write the Kindle books I promised the many wonderful people who contributed to the SAVE LaVANNE fund.
- I would save up an emergency fund so I’d never have to beg or borrow again.
- I would magically turn into someone else, someone who actually enjoys physical labor.
- I would get fit and slim by the end of summer, and look fantastic for my age.
Now, after four days of (for me) backbreaking labor clearing huge piles of branches, cleaning disgusting vault toilets, and raking camp site after camp site, I am wondering what the fuck I was thinking.
- Those Kindle books I promised by June 15th? Sorry. One is almost finished, the other not even started.
- The memoir? Haven’t written a word in weeks, and it doesn’t look like I’ll have the time or the energy to write after a day of camp hosting. *
- I have not turned into someone else yet. I do NOT enjoy physical labor.
In the next two-and-a-half days before the campground opens, I have twelve campsites to rake plus seventeen fire-rings to shovel out. At 7,200 feet, where oxygen is 17% less than at sea level. I am six weeks away from my 68th birthday, and have been a couch- and later, mouse-potato my entire life. I am not used to this.
Can I be honest? I want to quit.
Yes, I’m a wuss. A true and complete flake. I’d be letting everyone down, I know that. But even so, I just did my budget for next month to see if I could afford to back out of this deal. (I wouldn’t be the first, btw. From what I’ve heard, it happens all the time. And I can guess why: there is a lot of sugar-coating by management about how much work is involved, until it’s time to actually do it.)
Doesn’t matter. That emergency fund is too important. I’d like to say so is my self respect but really, it’s the money. Screw self respect.
But– but– says Flaky Me, “what if we could earn that money by finishing those books instead? Wouldn’t that be a more productive use of our time?”
True, but think of the stories we could tell if we stayed. And let’s continue with the honesty here: will we really work on those books?
But does everything have to be about making ourselves do shit we don’t want to do? Why can’t we just relax and be a flake? Isn’t this adventure supposed to be about enjoying life?
Shut up.
So you tell me: To quit or not to quit? Vote in the comments below.
* A lot of writing time was lost in the last few weeks due to a) LaVanne’s breakdown and b) subsequent bouts of flu and altitude sickness, but I don’t want to make excuses. A real writer would have written anyway.
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[…] So, I quit. […]
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Honestly, I’m worried about your health and safety. I wouldn’t even want to do any of that shit now, let alone when I’m in my 60s twenty years from now. You didn’t say how long this was for. That would matter to me a great deal: I could put up with it for a short time but I don’t know about a longer time.
Health and safety are ok, thanks Michael. There are people doing this that are older than me, and they seem to be doing just fine. I’m just facing the fact that I’m not one of those energizer bunny types. I thought I could change into the kind of person I admire, but I’m starting to realize I don’t really want to. The camp hosting gig is for the summer.
Honey, YOU ARE A REAL WRITER!
Now, stay or go it’s up to you, but remember, most good stories start out with a bottle of alcohol, so stock up…
Haha, point taken!
This is tough a tough one. I couldn’t tell you to stick with it or not. Gosh. For me, the labor would be the cake. Dealing with people non-stop or the “on call stuff” would be the deal breaker for me. No real time off or privacy, I have found, doesn’t work for me. I’m too private and need lots, and lots of alone time.
I managed a motel in WV for a year and a half and lived in one of the rooms in the motel. I had to look for an escape route after a year a half of that. But, I stuck through the mire and kept squinting at the light at the end of the tunnel. I slowly, but surely built my business to support my current life on my van, teaching live online classes and writing curriculum. Now, I wish I could teach less and write more, but, that’s going to be a while, I think. Keep trucking toward your dreams! You’re getting there! Well, you are there most of the way, it seems.
Yes, I’m a bit worried about what I hear will be nonstop campers with very little time to myself. I didn’t realize that when I signed up. Thought I’d have a lot of time for writing. I get overwhelmed by people after awhile.
Welp, you thought you were a flake until you wrote a book, and became a real writer. Now you think you are a mouse potato. Hmmm….I don’t know if you should quit or not, but suppose you are a mighty mouse instead of a mouse potato?
I keep telling people to NEVER give up… so I have to stick to that…. NEVER give up. Do your best, in the part-time hours you are suppose to work. Tell them you can’t do ALL of the physical work alone, and need help with some of it for a couple weeks until you are better acclimated. Just do your best. If it is not good enough for them, let them fire you. You will then have the satisfaction of knowing you gave it your all. That’s my position and I’m sticking to it, unless of course you really believe your mental or physical health are threatened. You are only part time, it would take a full time person, in good shape to do all they are expecting you to do, or a couple. Maybe you could get another Vandweller to come camp with you, in your space and job share. CLM always tries to get every drop of your blood. If you don’t stand your ground and tell them what you need to do your job, they won’t know and can’t give it to you. Tell them. Ask. What you got to loose???
That being said and your decision having been made remember in the words of Jerry Cox (Nelda’s husband), “It is what it is!” Physically stronger people have also made the decision that this type of “camp hosting” job was not for them. I came close many times to quitting, the summer I did it. One of the hardest things to accept at our age is… knowing are limitations. Some have given up these jobs for reasons other than physical. I refused to return for a second season, for reasons other than physical. So, hold your head up high, girlfriend, and move on. Keep in mind there are other jobs in the parks, like gatekeeper, etc. if you want to give it another try. Now that you know a little more about the challenges, interview with the other companies at the “big tent” (which is not suppose to be in Quartzsite this coming January) and tell them you are interested in part-time work if they have something less physical then the “maintenance” (i.e. potties, fire pites, etc.). You might also consider teaming up with another Vandweller who would rather do all that stuff than deal with $, bookkeeping, people. Take a “couples” position, or a “full-time” position and Job Share it. I applaud you for taking a long hard honest look at yourself and what you need. Good job.
Maybe first try to not be so harsh on yourself, and then ask the question again?
Bravo Martin! I agree on the being so harsh on yourself Lavoinne ! You grew up pulling shifts in a diner after school and weekends…AND did the whole thing all over again when your kids were small..this isn’t about hard physical work, its about you having a life you enjoy ! AND STOP with the lazy stuff.. it is just so not true !!
Cleaning the site will be the most physically demanding. Once people start arriving, I bet you’ll have fun.
I’m trying to sympathize with you and your issues but I keep coming back to how many people on this planet would be so happy to be in the situation you are whining about. If you had a sudden illness I guess I would be more understanding. Since your decision to quit or make good on your agreement will come down to money, why not consider how much money you wasted getting to this campground in the first place?
LaVonne, first of all, I’d just like to say that the business about “a real writer would have written anyway” is just so much bullshit. Real writers have shit come up. Real writers procrastinate. Real writers set their work aside. Yes, the only way to get a book written is to “apply butt to chair” but unless a writer has an advance and a deadline, there’s going to be floundering, stalling and diversions. And what about all the writing you’ve been doing in your dispatches and blog?
That really pressed my button! Moving on, I so relate to your resistance to this type of work. I’ve been having a nervous breakdown over the fact that I said I’d paint the kitchen this summer and I really really don’t want to. You have taken on much more than that and this is a real challenge.
To answer your question, I’ll ask you more questions.
Are you content to continue as you are or is there a part of you that would like to seize the opportunity to become more energetic and productive?
Close your eyes, relax and picture yourself making each choice. Imagine giving notice that you’re leaving. How will that feel? Imagine driving away. How will that feel — during the first mile and the hundredth mile? What opportunities will be open to you as a result of making that choice? How do you feel about those opportunities?
Now imagine sticking it out. Imagine your muscles and energy building, getting past this period of adjustment and into the rhythm of the job. How do you feel at the end of the summer, looking back on the work you did, the money you earned, and the stories you now have to tell? What opportunities will be available to you then as a result of the choice you made? How do you feel about those opportunities?
You know all about resistance, LaVonne. You know about the predictable phases of creative work and challenging life experiences, including the pleasure that comes when you break through the resistance. You know that sometimes we need to take small steps in order to change and sometimes we need to take a big leap.
If you do decide it’s leap time, Swankie Wheels had some good ideas of ways to make it work better for you. How could you make it at least a little bit fun? And you have us. You can complain here all you want and we’ll cheer you on. And if you decide you’d prefer a less radical path to transformation (or that no transformation is needed), we’ll cheer you on then too.
Wow, Sue. You’ve sure got way to say things. So very much agree with what you say.
Lavonne,
You should consider letting your manager know the things you are struggling with. Not being acclimated to higher altitudes or that level of manual labor is likely a common problem with new campground hosts. Of course there is no guarantee that your manager will be helpful in this situation. However, not giving them the chance to step in before things get to “the point of no return” might be bad for everyone involved (you will not get the money, experience, or reference for future camp hosting jobs while they will need to find a replacement for you). I do not think you need to say “I’m about to quit” so much as “I am really struggling with these issues and could use some help while I adapt.” Regardless of if you stay or leave, I am intrigued by the story. I look forward to the next chapter. 🙂
-Dave
Hi Lavonne – I was wondering how you would manage. There is no such thing as a free lunch (or campsite in this case) as the old saying goes. Being in the great outdoors, priceless; cleaning campsites, cleaning vault toilets ….. I don’t even like to clean my own toilet so I can sympathize.
I think one of the joys of being older is being able to do EXACTLY what you want to do. If you quit, someone else will take your place, I am sure. As for what everyone thinks, they will think what they think whichever choice you make.
If you do decide to quit, perhaps tell them you will wait for another person to start so they are not left stranded and you can leave with good conscious.
If you are feeling this way and the camp hasn’t even opened yet, it will be much worse when all the campers arrive or maybe you will enjoy it more with the people interaction. Good luck with your decision.
Well I am wondering just how many hours you are expected to work ? I am wondering also if I could do that kinda work in a few years.I hope so cause I wont have much cash either. Hearing all the van issues that cause money problems keeps me working my job and NOT going full time. Could you make more working at the dollar store? Then camping in stealth mode.I think you should do what makes you happy and what you can afford. I think you can do this. The real question is do you want to keep going. I hope you Just wait long enough to meet a few campers maybe that will help you enjoy it more. I will as your friend said cheer you on no matter what your decision is.
Thank you all for your thoughts and encouragement. After sleeping on it, I decided to quit this morning.
To be so public is embarrassing and I’m angry for putting myself in this position by signing up for the job in the first place. I knew it went entirely against my grain, but I had this fantasy of magically becoming another kind of person. At least I’ve learned a big lesson: KNOW THYSELF.
More later on the blog…
Just how unbelievably amazing do you want to be ms Ellis ? You can write… you do amazing things like..ALL THE TIME.. and give yourself a hard time because you misjudged what this job would entail… give yourself a break xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
and I don;t care about books or whatever it was you said you’d do for the subscription.. I subscribe because you inspire me……. happy with the updates as and when they come because the are real xxxxxx so please..stop worrying, accept hat we all love you..and do what the *** you want xxxxxxxxxxxx
Good for you, LaVonne! Life is short. Can’t wait to hear what’s next for you.
Thanks for your support, Sue. It means a lot to me. 🙂
Late to the party but here nonetheless.
LaVonne as always, your openness is refreshing. I see you’ve decided to quit, I’m bummed for purely selfish reasons. I was planning a visit! I had a similar experience a few months ago. Got a job and thought it would be grand and it turned out to be hell on earth for me personally. I stayed longer than I should have but learned my lesson.
NOw what?
Let me know. I’m off on a road trip with the Monk until next month and hope to be out on the road again late summer early fall. Let’s meet up.
safe travels.
No worries, Yolanda! I’ll be boondocking here or nearby for at least a month — hopefully until fall — and then heading toward the coast. I’d love to camp with you… and the best part is, I won’t have to work while we’re doing it.
I am so grateful I stumbled onto your blog and this dilemma of yours. I think you made the right choice. It’s a rare person who can sprint as soon as they get off the couch. I’ve been learning a lot from many of the van dwelling community—like working for the concessions companies at the National Parks like Yellowstone is for the young and some older souls made of stouter stuff than I—and ones that don’t care so much about money for survival. It squelched my unreasonable dreams to learn that and your experience has made me realize that camp host is not something I should even attempt. I have health issues but still dream of and work towards being more physically fit (though I doubt physically fit enough for those jobs) before I lose my home and become a wanderer. Thank you for sharing your experience. Now I won’t dream an impossible dream on that and will be more realistic in my search. Maybe I can build up to it after some wandering. 🙂