Sometimes it just hits you

I'm sitting in my little cubicle today and it just sort of hits me. I have been at this job for over 2.5 years. I'm actually only 4 months away from my 3 year mark.
This doesn't mean I'm fully vested yet in my 401K, nor does it come with a higher rate of pay, furthermore, I won't get to pick out a present from the company for reaching said milestone.
No, October 3 will probably come and go without much hooplah... But for me it signifies the longest I have held a full-time job ever.
Now this is not to say that 3 years is the longest amount of time I have been employed. No, no, no...I have held various jobs, actually quite a large variety of of jobs, this is just the longest I have stayed with one company. Which also goes hand in hand with my living conditions.
This is the longest I have stayed in one place since highschool.
My working life started out probably a little younger than most, as I took over my sister's paper route when I was in third grade. 63 papers had to be delivered every day except Sunday.
The route started right after school and I usually made it back home around 5:30 or 6 p.m. every night. And on Saturday's the delivery was in the morning.
I did this for about 3 years. And I think I can count on one hand the amount of times one of my parents drove me around, because of heat, rain or snow.
I actually think it was just once.
I delivered those papers, in 100 degree heat, through downpouring rain and minus 20 degrees with blowing wind and snow. And never thought twice about it.
Luckily for me, about half way through my route, was the business section, in which I was able to enter air-conditioned buildings, or heated buildings on the very roughest of days. And most people allowed me a moment or so of rest before going back out.
I of course had my "buddies" on my route, those that I would stop and chit chat with for a few moments every day, unless of course I was trying to beat a quickest time or something. (Occassionaly I would see how fast I could get my route done, by riding my bike and sprinting to the doors for delivery, I wasn't allowed to "throw" the paper.)
First on my route was Mr. Goodenburger, he owned the barber shop, and he was the father of one of my classmates. Then I had the receptionist at the gas company (I can't remember her name but she was very nice) Then Stu, he was a bookkeeper of some sort, Then I stopped in at the lighthouse on my way home. (I had to quit stopping there as Nanner Nose was getting a little too friendly with me as I got older[on another side note Nanner Nose was the town window peep])
The hardest place to deliver was the ceramic shop. When you walk in the door of this place it is floor to ceiling of shelves filled with ceramic figurines. And the walking space between shelves wasn't very wide. And I had to go through there with my carrier pack on, which consisted of a big bag on the front and a big bag on the back that I wore over my head, usually filled with newspapers. I had to walk into the shop lay the paper on the counter then deftly turn around and carefully walk back out. Making sure not to let the bags swing too much and knock a breakable off the shelf.
Overall, I hated the paper route. I didn't make a lot of money, because I let some people slide with thier monthly payments. (Yes I had to collect the money for the paper) I hated confrontation, still do actually.
And I didn't get to sit at home watching "Saved by the Bell" and "Ricky Lake" like all my friends did.
I also attribute the paper route to the demise of my money handling skills. As I was the owner of a checking account at a very early age, and learned the skill of floating checks while others were still begging mom and dad for the cash.
I just wrote a check and hoped money would magically appear in the account. And most of the time the money didn't appear and my mom would find the overdraft notice and come yell at me. Though I never learned my lesson.
And lastly, I hated that my hands were always black with the print. You couldn't get away with touching anything. One time, one of my business customers told me I needed to quit picking my nose. I didn't know what he was talkin about until I got home and looked in the mirror and saw that my nose was all black.