workahol....what?.

No, I'm not known to be a workaholic. I don't really even know why I chose that word as my title. It's not very relevant, especially considering I can't relate at all to the term. Not a bit. Nope.

Last night is a good example. I went in to the office (where I do admin work for our humble church) and spent a few hours doing very, very little. It may have been my mood, or the slothful feeling I had at the time, but not much work was done.

My first job was babysitting. So unusual, eh? Yes, from my early teen years I tried to get work babysitting from any parent that would let me get a hold of their children. Actually, I was a little more timid than that. I only felt comfortable babysitting if I at least SLIGHTLY knew the parents. There were the bad experiences, like the mother who would be hours late - seriously - to pick up her very chatty 4-year-old son. There were good experiences, like the little home schooled boy who would remind me to ask him to brush his teeth before bed, and who's parents had plenty of junk food and MADE me promise to eat whatever I wanted. :) Those were good times.

After babysitting, I moved on to camp. Yeah, I was a summer camp junkie for a while. It wasn't actually a "job" for the first couple years. I volunteered. But after a while I started getting into the paid positions and it was a nice change. Especially as I got a little older and the fun of the camp atmosphere just wasn't quite enough payment for the hours I was putting in.

When I was in high school (grade 12 I think) I got my first really serious out-in-the-world job. Together with my friend, Shelley (see "Mosaic Life" in my links), I applied, interviewed and got a job as a busser in the cafeteria at Grouse Mountain. Yep, it was a classy joint, and I had the classiest job of all. I hated going actually. Apart from the thrill of actually having a real job and actually getting a real pay cheque, I dreaded every single shift. I even remember crying before leaving the house, wishing someone could bail me out. It wasn't the job that was horrible; it was partly that I was so shy and had a hard time getting to know the other teenagers that worked there, and the job was pretty slow so I had to make myself look busy quite often. That was stressful. I was so bent on impressing my supervisor.

I did, however, achieve a grand compliment one day. My supervisor came in specifically to tell me that the big boss from upstairs had come down and had been REALLY impressed with the slick, clean state of the cafeteria. She had wanted the message passed on to the busser. YESSSS. That felt so good.

Right after high school, having decided that there was no way in hell I'd be heading to college after living through 13 years of prison, I decided to look for work - any work. Within a few weeks, my dentist had scooped me up and hired me as an office helper at a really decent rate for my age and experience in the work force. A good man, my dentist!!! It was full time, actual adult-job hours, and I got to experience how good it feels to go home after a long, tiring day. I learned a lot there, and actually considered going into dental assisting or hygiene for a while.

After that job, I once again worked for the camp, but this time in the office. I worked as an administrative assistant and registrar for a year or two. It was a comfortable place for me because I knew a lot of the people already, so it just meant that I had to learn the job and not worry about new environments and relationships. That, for me, was always hard when I was younger. Perhaps it was just because I really was young and hadn't gained the confidence yet to present myself without hesitation to new people.

After the camp days ended, I worked for a short while at Bread Garden - a cafe/restaurant that I loved to eat at!! It had great food, great coffee, I learned how to be a barista, do cash, and serve in a fast-paced environment, but the staff were hard to work with, and the supervisors treated me horribly. It ended with a horrible review (that came as an utter shock), disclosure of some negative feedback from the supervisors which had very little relevance to how well I was doing my job ("...they just wish you would come out to the staff parties - we're supposed to be building a family atmosphere here...."), and what felt like encouragement to quit. I did, and haven't looked back since, except to sent a scowl their way.

Can you tell I'm still slightly bitter?

My next job was quite a leap up. I taught some college classes. HAH!! Yeah, I really did. It was in Japan. There were a whole slough of jobs that I did there: teaching in Jr High, elementary school, evening adult English classes at a community centre, private tutoring, and even a little kindergarten class. Good times, that's for sure. It solidified my desire to teach as a career one day.

When we returned to Vancouver, I got a job in a film studio doing reception. To my surprise, I stayed 2 years there. (I started off just as a temp, thinking something else would come along eventually) It was another great experience, an interesting environment, and a colorful spattering of people that I got to work with. I miss them. I left that job only because Plava was ready to burst forth through my belly button. Yes, that was my last job until I got this current one doing administration for our church. This current one is good - it's been a lot more responsibility than I've ever had, and it feels good. It doesn't hurt either that it's only a couple nights a week. I can still stay at home with Plava and do the housewife thing. I love the housewife thing.

Anyway, if I haven't bored you to death yet, I'm surprised!! Hopefully you come back and read the next post. It would be an awful pity if you didn't. :)