Career? Ha, good one.
You can’t really call this a career. By definition, career implies a kind of trajectory, doesn’t it? A climb up the corporate ladder. It conjures images of fancy offices, business suits, expense accounts, that kind of stuff.
I don’t have a job like that. I don’t even have dreams of a job like that. So the title ‘career move’ is an outright embellishment — itself a snazzy way of saying I’m lying through my teeth.
You see, my new situation is temp work, at best, and a gig, at worst. But even that sounds a little lofty. I mean, the job doesn’t even have a title, aside from the generic, all-purpose ‘low man on the totem pole.’ This is dues paying, ladies and gentlemen, plain and simple.
What I do is collate documents, I stuff envelopes, I fold and tape and label. For a refreshing change of pace, I enter time sheet data into a computer and meter the mail. In essence, I do whatever no one else is interested in doing. This is not challenging work, but, oh my, there are advantages.
The hours, for one thing: eight in the morning until 2 in the afternoon, who wouldn’t love that shift? There’s no dress code, either. You can wear whatever you want — this is a jeans and t-shirts workplace. (Possibly shorts and t-shirts in the summer, I’ll have to get back to you on that.) Best of all, there’s a noticeable lack of ass-kissing and brown-nosing and backbiting. The people are genuinely helpful and friendly.
All in all, this was a good move. Heck, it was a master stroke. Why? Mainly because there’s no freezer involved. You see, for a short time last winter I stocked them — freezers, that is. I spent hours filling icy shelves with boxes and bags and cans of frozen foods — everything from waffles to fish sticks to orange juice. If it was frozen, I toted it. And in the middle of the night, too. I was miserable.
By comparison, this is the lap of luxury. However, I would like to get my hands on the sticky-fingered dope who stole my rain jacket from the break room last week. If anyone sees a Marmot Precip, bright blue, size M, with a hole in one pocket, let me know. I have a can of whoop-ass I’m dying to open.
Copyright © publikworks 2013
the whirly girl 
10 responses to “: career move #2 :”
two things occur to me. One: you have a job & i do not so you look to me to be in great shape even without a raincoat. Two: you kinda have the job i wish i had , at least for awhile. just had a thought-does the office have a lost &found ? maybe search for the rain garment there ? Best of luck-enjoyed your writing.
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Hiya, jacy1911. This job is a wonderful, although temporary, relief. As long as they have work for me to do, I’m in good shape. I just hope they don’t run out any time soon : |
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What the….you’ve just described my position in my office! Not bad to be taking home some cash for a non-stressful job, eh?
I’m happy for you, my friend after all those years of deadlines, difficult clients and most of all, no more of those nimrods you had to work with!!! Ain’t life grand?! :o)
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There are still plenty of deadlines and difficult clients, but I no longer bear the responsibility. It’s sweet, sweet relief.
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A woman of a certain age — cue a prior Grace Slick reference — and of medium stature is going to open a can of whoop ass. Words can’t express my joy. Congrats on the new job Lisa. It sounds dreamy.
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I am. Just as soon as I find the dirty, rotten, low down, no good thief who is currently enjoying my coat’s vigilant protection. Be on the lookout, Jo.
By the way, are you settled in yet? How’s the cat adjusting?
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Pablo the cat absolutely adores the little rental house we’re in. John and I, we’re not so enamored. We just closed on a new house last week, though, with a beautiful view of Discovery Bay. We’re thrilled. Pablo will probably hate it.
Oh, and I forgot to say how happy I am that you’re not working in freezers anymore. Yay. Now, go get that stinkin’ thief.
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Wow, you guys are fast. And very decisive. The view sounds awesome. I wish you all the happiness in the world in your new place. Pablo the cat, too.
I thought I had a sighting of my jacket last week, but it turned out to be a blue laundry bag. Bummer.
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Glad to hear you are not freezing any long in the coolers. Sorry to hear about the raincoat. I hope it turns up. I’m still enjoying your blog.
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It’s been more than a week now and there’s no sign of my jacket. I have officially abandoned all hope and put a curse on the thief.
Good to hear from you, Prudy. Have a lovely spring!
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