The nauseous smell permeated throughout the air as I hastened to my assigned section. “Put your glasses back on!,” the safety inspector said to the workers. It was Monday morning and the clock read five thirty A.M. As I walked with somnambulance, I noticed that my co-workers were not ready to start off Monday morning either. A truck came in, ready to get painted. My knees felt like they were going to collapse because of the previous night at the gym and also from the soccer games I played throughout the weekend. I felt that I had blisters all over my feet because of the heavy duty boots I have to wear at work. As if I was walking in a garden full of thorns on the ground, enjoying the pain because I know that at the end of the day the pain is worth the money. I had to go get blades to peel off all the stickers around the truck. As I gently peeled off the sticker with the blade, I noticed how smoothly the sticker came off. With my right hand I deeply inserted the blade under the sticker and, with my left hand, I pulled the sticker out fluidly. I had to make sure I did not damage the paint as the sticker came off or else it would be hard to paint over the damage. I was entertained as I repetitively did this by the harmony around me from other workers that were completing their task. The heavy duty machine whined as it cut through scrap, irritating my eardrums. I heard two guys vociferating from the welding section across the company babbling about how the Texans lost badly versus San Francisco. I started to contemplate about why I am here right now. I knew I needed money for myself because I refuse to accept money from my mother, knowing how hard she works to pay bills and rent. I want to show her that I can do this on my own. That I do not rely on anyone to get what I want or desire. To show that I have independence and bravery for myself. I knew that as long as I had a job, any kind of job, shows that I am doing something proactive