Life's been an especially nonstop whirlwind of struggles lately. Not in a bad way, but nonetheless hectic. Many changes happening all at once. Lots of tiring tasks, close calls, and near misses, hour by hour, day after day, week after week. Moved out of Richmond Hill, Queens. Staying with a generous friend. Gloria! Stored belongings in a another's basement. Mikey! Paid the income taxes. Taking serious shots at my disappearing credit debt. Helping my kindred friend Loren maintain a positive stride amid all of his hurdles and demons. Still helping my folks stay afloat in their everlasting adversity. Got an apartment lined up in Ridgewood for next month. Haven't driven a taxicab in almost a couple of months now, with the exception of one shift to film the clip on the previous entry.
Started working for an art handling service called CFL. Driving a tagged box truck all over the place. Wrapping, packaging, crating, and delivering all sorts of artwork, chandeliers, antique and high end furniture between ritzy residences, dusty warehouses, auctioning institutes, restoration shops, art galleries, exhibitions, fairs, etc..
The pay is (by far) more guaranteed and steadier and the job is almost as adventurous, if not more so at times. Instead of leaving work with a fried brain and atrophied muscles, everyday is a balanced physical and mental workout. The days begin at a reasonable hour, not in the middle of the night. The coworkers are phenomenally unique and brotherly. The bosses are such wholehearted characters that they instantly became family. The clients are a mixed bag, as were those in the taxi. Half of them too full of themselves and too empty of others. The other half pleasant and even empathetic.
The freedom perk that that cab driving offered only in theory is now a solid mainstay. I'm asked politely what my daily availability looks like. If I have side jobs lined up or personal errands to run, I can prioritize them without guilt or fear of lost income. CFL doesn't officially stand for anything, but all crew invent their own acronyms. Can't Find Luc (el jefe). Constantly Fcuking Late. Care Free Living. Cheap Fcuking Labor. Etc. I'm really honored to be a part of this team. I now look down at my ex-colleagues in their rented yellow Vics from up in my tall seat with sadness from afar over how poorly compensated their grueling, robot-like days can be. I'll try to always keep my hack license valid as a back up, but my days as a horse with its legs tied up are over. I'm now a horse with its own power, marching to its own gallop.
