Cleaned the prep room the last week or so.
God damn you can accumulate a lot of crap after a few decades or so… honestly. Nobody in any other profession is more content to just leave shit exactly how it is than God damn morticians. I’m finding old glass fluid bottles, an old straight razor and the big leather strap thing, old trocar’s and bits and parts to old tools we probably don’t even have anymore, more lost scalpel handles than we’d ever need, old boxes of random bullshit just aged something terrible… products and tools sold to us over seventy or eighty years that just sat there. God forbid someone before me decide “we need to throw some of this shit away” nah… we might need that fifty year old fluid hand pump or one of the six or seven unusable needle injectors.
Why have I had all this time to poop around in the prep room (my favorite room in the building, by the way) you might ask? I decided to “quit” at our monument company. See, we own two businesses and five or six years ago (about when I got my license) I started working at both places. I split my time between the monument company and the funeral home. Not a bad deal right? Yeah, well… the monument company is a tricky business and as we got busier and busier I was spending less and less time at the funeral home. Was I probably avoiding the headaches the funeral home brings? Yep. Both innate stuff like late night death calls and the like… the stuff every mortician deals with. But also the stresses that come with dealing with a family business. Long story short I wasn’t feeling like I was being a very good funeral director. In avoiding confrontation with my parents and avoiding the natural stresses that come with this undertaking (heh, wordplay) I was falling down on the job… I needed to refocus on my trade.
So I decided to focus one hundred percent on being a mortician… that’s my job, that’s my profession, that’s my trade. After the zombie and or robot apocalypse I’ve got a utilizable profession for the burnt out Fallout / Mad Max style patchwork trade city… “hey, my father just died from radiation poisoning what do I do?”… “son, you sell me that coat and help me out with a hot meal and I’ll take good care of your dad.”
Heh.
So yeah. Yay. Feels good to get that out there.
