Monthly Adventure bones up on her Delivery Skills

Foreward

Rather spontaneously in the dead of night, I made the decision to deliver newspapers. These are the chronicles of my short-lived career as a ‘Super-Extraordinary Newspaper Delivery Girl’.

Day 1 – Episode: Liberating Anomalous Event

Just got home from delivering my first batch of newspapers with the trainer! I feel like a kid in a candy store!

This is a short route, only 100 papers, which is good to cut my teeth on as a contractor. And if things work out well, they’ll give me a second route which should help me to cover my living expenses while I work on my projects (like this website) during the day. All I need now is a flashlight and a marker and I’m good to go.

Weirdly enough, I feel quite liberated.

Well, it’s 6 am and I need to get some zzzzzzzz’s. Chat with you all later!

Patricia

Day 2 – Episode: Death of the Ego

I just got home from another middle-of-the-night newspaper delivery run.

It seemed so easy yesterday under the watchful eye of the trainer who knew where exactly to go. But when it’s dark outside and there is nothing around you but mile-high hedges with no visible addresses, it makes the evening go not so well.

It really hit me hard over the last few hours, wondering if I can keep this up, wondering what the hell I am doing.

I did a one hour route in exactly two hours and thirty-five minutes.

A cop came by and wondered if I was in distress at one point in time. Then car sickness struck. And now my poor hands are covered in dark yucky stuff, feeling like all the moisture has been sucked dry.

What’s not so funny is that, earlier on in the evening, I was at an event and met someone who told me about their job as a demonstrator. I remembered thinking: I know exactly who this person is – this is the person I avoid eye contact with because I don’t want to be sucked into watching their demonstration, guilting me into buying their product. Sort of like that street person over there who I’ve stopped noticing when strolling down the street. But the GALLING thing was this – I told the demonstrator what I ‘used to do’ for a living.

My ego, so colossal, could not withstand the thought of telling a stranger that it delivers newspapers.

I make twenty cents a paper, by the way.

There is approximately one hundred papers on this route. So tonight, during the four hours away from home, I made a whopping $20. That’s $5 an hour. And if I pull up my socks, they’ll give me a second route.

Yay me.

That doesn’t include travel time or the petrol used in my car.

I keep thinking to myself that there’s got to be something good about this experience.

There’s just got to be.

On my way home, I received a call from Bruce, one of newspaper guys who was kindly checking up on me to see if I was okay. Even though I told him I was beginning to question whether or not I was cut out for this, his words gave me comfort, leaving me with the sense that I wasn’t alone in this dark night of my soul.

My ego is dying a slow and painful death in the quiet dark hours of the early morn.

But there is something gratifying, nonetheless, in doing this work. So perhaps I’m not such a hopeless case after all.

In good heart…

Patricia

Day 3 – Episode: Running Down A Dream

This delivery girl business ROCKS!!!

I shaved almost a full forty minutes off my time, doing everything in just under 2 hours. WAY better than yesterday! I was running, running, running – blitzing about – on a mission to beat my time.

And tomorrow I dare to dream that I will be even more spectacular!!

Driving home in the early morning light, I had the windows down with my hair flying about and a shit-eating grin plastered across my face. It was then that the radio began to play Tom Petty’s song, “Running down a dream.”

Rather fitting.

Here I am in life, busy-busy, running-running-running, running down my dreams.

And it feels so good.

Like anything is possible.

Good morning to you all…and good night to me!

Patricia

Day 4 – Episode: There’s No Use Crying over Spilt Blood

Excited and on a high, I was the Super-Extraordinary Newspaper Delivery Girl!

WO0T!! W0OT!!

With my work day (night) almost done, I gleefully ran toward the designated target (aka mailbox slot), but was unexpectedly thwarted.

Apparently, under the cloak of darkness, a couple of 2×4′s laying on the ground decided to derail my well-laid plans, sending me flying through the air.

If I was wearing a cape, you would have confused me with a super hero of some sort, I am sure.

After moments of stunned silence, and what I suspect was shock, I slowly made motions to pick my wounded bleeding body off the ground.

Somewhat confused, I looked down at the newspaper in my mangled hands – that white-ish thing I vaguely remembered I was attempting to deliver. It was severely damaged from the fall, all torn and battered beyond reading. Turning around, I gradually made motions to move toward my car. Once there, I retrieved a newspaper from the backseat and delivered it gently into the mail slot.

I then finished my newspaper delivery route. Ten more houses. Ten more times getting in and out of my vehicle. Ten more newspapers to deliver.

My final hurrah.

After checking myself into the hospital, I was found to have not only missing epidermis on the four bendy areas of my body, but also, a fractured left arm.

Yes, you heard me right.

With a broken arm and the skin torn off all my knees and elbows, I delivered newspapers.

But if you thought I had problems…think again.

The cops and paramedics brought in some young punk who was obnoxiously loud and demanding to see his lawyer. The police finally took a few steps away from him to, from what I suspect, get some peace. As he sat across from me, he finally noticed my presence. What was I in for – he asked. Obviously for being such a kick-ass delivery girl!! I raised my elbows slightly and he winced, looking away, saying no more. Although he did kindly mention that I was going to be the last female he’d ever see.

Just when I thought I had it bad.

Well, I think it’s time to sign off, perhaps permanently this time.

Love from your favourite newspaper delivery girl,

Patricia, the one-fingered typer.

Day 7 – Episode: Pride goeth before the ‘Fall’

It was only a week ago when I randomly applied for the position of Super-Extraordinary Newspaper Delivery Girl in the middle of the night.

I’ve been known to make some interesting late-night decisions and this obviously was one of them. A part of me liked the cool quiet late night hour, the meditative routine, the exercise, the part where I was alone.

I liked being alone.

But instead, I am beginning to suspect it was more like providence for a well-needed lesson in humility and pride.

I never once told anyone else what I was up to, perhaps, in part, due to the obvious ego issues: to go from successful, high-paid (in the 6-digits), project manager of a multi-million dollar provincial program to delivering newspapers under the cloak of darkness…well, my silence most certainly reeks of shame.

And with the very obvious sling on my arm, I know the more obvious questions will arise.

What happened to you?

So do I preserve my false sense of pride or do I tell the truth of it all? I can only hope I have the courage to speak the words that need to be said. Obviously something to ponder while I walk down this inevitable path of my ultimate destruction of the person I used to be, that person who once smugly believed herself to be superior to a demonstrator – even a newspaper delivery girl.

But enough. Enough.

My Ego is dying and it needs a proper send-off. Time to say goodbye to my sweet enabler, my old friend, my Ego.

Goodbye.

Don’t let the door hit your ass on the way out.

With love from your Super-Extraordinary Newspaper Delivery Girl

One Year Later…

It’s been a telling year for me.

My colossal ego has left the building and in its place is something else. Something better.

I’m still running down my dreams, doing whatever needs to be done in order to get by, following the siren call into my future – that which bewitches, beguiles, entices, captivates.

I might not be delivering newspapers to your door anytime soon…but you can find me building websites, making videos, even cleaning houses and vehicles – whatever needs to be done. I have no shame. I’ve been humbled, brought down to my knees.

And without question – for this, I am extremely thankful.

There will be days when I trip. Sometimes even fall. At times, I will get a little bruised, perhaps even a little dirty. But I pick myself up, gently taking care and I wipe away the sweat, the tears, the blood, and the dirt…and I know that I am okay.

I will always be okay.

Signing off with love,

From Your Super-Extraordinary EX-Newspaper Delivery Girl

© Monthly Adventure, Patricia Taylor, Vancouver, June 2010

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