You know, sometimes I hate my job because working for someone else sucks on a lot of levels, but this is, truthfully, the best job I've ever had. Unfortunately, that's not saying much ... let's review:
Age 16: Hostess at Applebee's. I got the job through Joanna, who I lived with in Seattle, because her dad owns the restaurant. The staff was ok, but restaurant work is unduly stressful. You're working with people who are "in between" something, whether that be school, another career, or life. Either way, no one really wants to work in a restaurant like Applebee's, but you do it because you need the job. I got paid pretty good money and quit right before I graduated from high school because I was over it.
Age 17: Sales Associate at Gap. Hands down, worst job ever. Working in retail inherently sucks, because the managers are robots, the staff in general is perky and annoying, and then there are people like me who pretended to be perky and annoying in the interview and never lived up to the proper image. I didn't give a shit about this place and put very little effort into folding clothes. Who can be passionate about that shit? Not I. I worked here for about three months.
Age 18: Level 1 employee at In 'N Out. The advantage to working here is that I got a free meal with every shift, and I worked almost every day. The disadvantage is that I gained all sorts of weight. It was during this time when somebody at college actually said to me, "You're very cute, but it's like you try to make yourself unattractive." Hum. I made really good money for a fast food joint (for those not in the know, In-N-Out is like the Four Seasons of fast food enterprises) and didn't mind it all that much, but was still happy to quit. I worked there for about five months.
Age 19: Senior Vault Teller at Washington Mutual. I was extremely fortunate to get this job, considering my lack of experience in clerical work, and even though it sucked ASS a lot of days -- see all the entries from that time period, which chronicle the various customers who decided that it was my fault they didn't know how to save money -- it gave me great experience, great references, and, if you'll excuse the pun, I made BANK. I was given two promotions and two raises during the year and a half that I worked there. I was also involved in three robberies, which were immensely traumatizing but make for good stories. I tried to transfer to a Wamu in SF, but it didn't work out, which is good because customer service jobs suck.
Age 20: Assistant Manager at Body Options (a boutique). This job sucked ass, but I had been unemployed for three months and was grateful for any paycheck. I was stuck in a tiny shop in the lobby of the sports club that's adjacent to the Four Seasons. I was forced to work the ridiculous hours my manager didn't want to work, which ended up being every day of the week just for 30 hours a week, which is ridiculous. My manager was an asshole who would stare at my boobs while he was talking to me, even though he's gay, and would tell me all the details about his personal life and when I was venture to tell him about mine, he would distinctly interrupt me. I'm still technically employed by them, but I don't work more than one day a month.
Age 20: Receptionist for Singer Associates. This job rules for a number of reasons: good money, kickass coworkers (with rare exceptions), little to no customer service, and all I really do is play on the internet all day after I finish projects that take maybe a half an hour that my superiors are eternally grateful for. We have traditions such as "beer o'clock," which is when we all get tipsy around 3:30 on Fridays. It's good because I don't want to do this for the rest of my life, which is encouraging me to get my degree so I can hurry up and start telling underlings what to do, but it's bad because it's your standard 40-hour work week which makes it difficult to attend school full-time. Next semester, I'll be working and attending school for 60 hours a week, which includes four 13-hour days. Yuck.
And that's my employment history. I've never been fired from a job and, with the exception of the Gap, was offered raises and promotions to stay at the job when I put in my two weeks.
Anyway. I'm still very sick and crampy, so everytime I cough my ovaries attempt to detach themselves from my fallopian tubes, or whatever they're attached to, and it is very painful. I was rather loopy last night after I took some DayQuil and I had to take my English final, but it's all over with and I can't wait for tonight when I can crawl under the covers as soon as I get home and watch Six Feet Under all night long. Ooooo.
I'm reading "the curious incident of the dog in the night-time," which I'm enjoying so far, but it's written from the perspective of a 15-year-old with "special needs" which seem to include slight autism and severe obsessive-compulsiveness and all of the sentences are slightly stunted. When I'm reading a book that I enjoy, I tend to internalize it (see: Bridget Jones phase), so if my entires seem sophomoric in days to come, please understand why. Thank you. Carry on.
one year ago today: nothin.
two years ago today: "what was i thinking, moving to seattle with a girl who likes muse, for christs sake, when i am, as pathetic as it is, a getup girl at heart?"
three years ago today: "Part of me's really excited, and the other part is wondering how awkward it's going to be."