I'm My Own Sweatshop Worker

I Am My Own Sweatshop Worker

It sounds crazy, but I am my own sweatshop worker. I’m not trying to make light of sweatshops, although it may appear that way. I’m just saying my working conditions are terrible which is ridiculous because I make my own conditions…sort of.

I work long hours typing, making jewelry, taking photos, making art, cleaning toilets. There’s other stuff in there too. Like folding laundry, writing Christmas cards, and folding more laundry, but I’m probably not supposed to call that work because it’s just life stuff, right? I am just saying I am in workaholic mode right now. Long hours, no breaks, eye and wrist strain. Sitting on my butt too much pain.

I’ve got it all.

Not to mention the pay is low and I do have to sleep where I work…when the other people here let me.

I’m not complaining because I love what I do. It’s just sometimes the conditions can be really bad.

For example while I am trying to do all the stuff this is happening:

I'm My Own Sweatshop Worker
That’s supposed to be me in the middle. Sorry I didn’t draw you better, Family, but this is what happens when you are talking the entire time I have my electronic paint pen in hand.

The problem is I am a real slave driver to work for. I have high demands for productivity. I scoff at bathroom breaks. Sleeping is for when you are dead and eating is a luxury. I’m a tyrant of a boss.

I’m just saying that it’s probably a good thing I don’t have any employees because then I probably would work in a sweatshop and go to jail for creating a sweatshop or violating child labor laws or for forcing my dog to paint with a paintbrush in his mouth. I’m pretty sure some would consider that animal cruelty.

It’s probably a good thing I’m not president too.


Happy Little Tree Necklace
Happy Little Tree!

Anyway, I’ve been making jewelry night and day. Have you seen it? This piece is for sale in my Etsy shop right now. Come take a look. Clicking the photo above will take you to my Etsy store. Or you can click on the little mermaid candy cane box in my sidebar to see all the stuff I am selling this holiday season. I’m trying to sell enough to get myself to the big BlogHer convention next summer. So, even if you don’t want to buy anything, can you share my art with someone who might? Tell them my boss is a tyrant so they want to help me, OK? This a very politically incorrect way to ask for support and to be honest I don’t really know how it’s come to this, but here I am.

I’m tying to be a less demanding boss, but I guess if I love my job I shouldn’t mind being my own sweatshop worker. I’m totally going to stop complaining and apologize now for talking about my first world problems and comparing myself to people who actually do work in sweatshops.

Still, I have worked until I couldn’t possible work anymore.


8 thoughts on “I Am My Own Sweatshop Worker”

    1. The first three months of my daughters life I don’t think I slept at all. I remember thinking about how sleep deprivation was used to torture people and how it was really effective. Yes, I was comparing my life to that of a torture victim. I obviously bend toward the dramatic and everything I say needs to be taken with a grain of salt. A big one! Ha!

      The best part is my family is as excited about what I am doing as I am. The worst part is Tiny-Small tries to steal all of the necklaces and hide them in her jewelry box. She’s my number one fan!

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