This time as an excuse to sit down instead of cleaning out my closet like a mad woman in 95 degree weather. Nothing too exciting has been going on. After graduating I got into the panicky, stressful, and overall unbearably disheartening stage of trying and failing to find a job in my field (and I cringe to use that word--I found out that BA's mean practically nothing and I am underqualified and grossly ill-prepared experience wise). After proving unsuccessful with field related jobs, I decided any "good paying" job would suffice. I finally nabbed an interview with a school in Oakland that boasted quality education with limitless possibilities for growth.
What I got was a dilapidated, hippie run, possibly fraudulent, and overwhelmingly creepy school for "gifted" children, i.e the rich kids whose rich parents decide their kid is too good for public or even private schools.
I didn't feel too chummy about the job after the woman who talked to me, the principal and founder of the school, bawled in the TWO HOUR LONG INTERVIEW about how unfortunate these kids were to be born gifted, but I decided to buck up and take it in stride. I am a working girl now, after all. I should expect the unexpected, be ready for any an all challenges, what have you. But after seeing the state of the school (crummy), being asked for my social security number, drivers license, passport number, and thumb prints up FRONT, the woman crying her eyes out, I decided this venture wasn't for me. I skipped out with a "so long, suckers" email and never looked back. I'm kidding, I didn't leave them completely in the dust. I gave them ample time to find another victim.
So the coffee shop remained my only job. My friend Tessa called me one day, though, with a plea for help where she was, at the time, working a job that normally three people work. The family needed another nanny. I didn't think it would be so bad. Three kids? Two at school? Pfft. Okay, no big deal.
Oh, could a person ever be more wrong. The kids are 6, 4, and 1 1/2.
I won't go on all day about it because a job is a job is a job but it's stressful and scary and nerve wracking and trying and a lot of other things. But it pays well and for now, that's all I kinda need.
I desperately, truly, and deeply want an office job though (this blog is SO BORING). That's right, I want a cubicle and 9-5 hours. I want to show up and do my work, eat lunch on a patio or at my desk. I want to "goof off" at work by browsing the internet. I want to get mad at someone for eating my leftovers that were clearly marked "Meghan". I want to have weekends off so I can start seeing why everyone has such a distaste for Mondays. I want to be a commuter that knits on the train or something. All the perks, quirks, and pitfalls of an office job would be a welcome change right now. Deadlines, schedules, weekly goals, holiday parties. Please?
That's about it. That stupid closet is still all up in my face begging to be vacuumed. Stupid closet.
3 comments:
LOL!! When I read that you want someone to eat your clearly labled food from the fridge it made me think of one of my favorite Friends episodes. Where someone (obviously) eats Ross's turkey sandwich Monica made. And he screams "you ate my sandwich?! MY SANDWICH!" and it echoes through out New York City. Then one of his co workers starts calling him Mental Geller.
I don't know, it made me laugh.
Did you ever try the temp agencies? What about volunteering at teh morgues? Did you talk to them?
heather--i don't remember that episode! sounds funny though.
the temp agencies' websites scared me away but i'll give them another go when i feel especially brave. and i couldn't find any information on the morgue, let alone if they even want people to help out.
Post a Comment