This past week something major
happened. Yes, Fall Out Boy did announce they were reuniting, but I
also got a new job. What makes this different than any other job I've
gotten?
It. Wasn't. Off. Craigslist.
Ever since I moved to Chicago, I've
gotten all gainful employment from the website where one can also buy
a dishwasher, or post a missed connection for that girl you saw get a
coffee four people in front of you in line at Starbucks.
I should have known that this wasn't
the best way to get a job as I have repeatedly gotten THE WURST jobs
ever.
Example:
A. The recruiting job where I quit,
was fired, and rehired in the same two-day span. This job also
featured the day that the woman in sweatpants and a McDonald's hash
brown in her hair tried to break into our office because she had been
promised a job.
B. The job (blogged about previously)
where I videotaped men in rabbit costumes riding on skateboards.
C. Banana Republic. In a word:
SUCKED.
The most recent job I had, however, I
liked. There were weird things about it, like the gallons of urine
that accrued on the floor of the bathroom because people refused to
pee with the lights on. Or the two-hour meetings we would have and
discuss...God knows what, but other than that it was good. Good
coworkers, good boss, no customer service/human interaction.
But last month through a mutual friend
I interviewed for a job as a grad admissions guy at a university in
Chicago. It includes things like retirement benefits and a cubicle
with a name plate.
I realized what a sarcastic bitch I am
when this week one of my coworkers at my present job said, “Tedd,
we'll miss you.”
My response: “I know. It was a tough
decision. (beat) Really, that's not sarcastic. I'm sad.”
It's weird for me to be leaving a job
and actually going to miss the day-to-day grind of the office. I'll
miss things like answering the phone as my fake assistant, or calling
my coworker and having conversations like:
“Hey, I have an important question.”
“Yeah.”
“What would you do for a
Klondike bar?”
“Well, thats a really interesting
question. I mean, I would do most things for a Klondike Bar.”
“I think you should also state
whether this is is something you would do for love. I mean, I know
you won't do that, for love – but seriously, who would?”
“Exactly. Sometimes people do crazy
things for love and Klondike Bars. For instance they might wear
really short shorts on a day when it's 40 degrees outside.”
“I thought that was just a bad
fashion choice.”
“See, this is an important lesson.
Before you judge someone for bizarre behavior, you perhaps should ask
them if they are getting a Klondike Bar for it later.”
I will also miss 15-minute discussions
regarding the Real McCoy, City High, and other 90's groups on Fridays
when we are all trying to avoid doing work. And yes, I did
occasionally feel good about my job, like the time I helped a lady
work toward her medical licensure because of a report. Or the time
some [insert derogatory term for stupid man here] emailed me and said
my report was wrong, to which I responded. “I'm right. Look at this
website. Boom.” [Okay, maybe I'm paraphrasing.] Regardless, it was
a good job and I will miss it.
I'm not usually one to get
retrospective about life, but I turned 28 this month, I got my
Master's, and I'm going to have my name on a piece of brass(?) or
whatever metal is used for nameplates. It's kind of weird to be
moving on to a different phase of life where people might respect me,
or at least stand at attention when I discuss my new job, that WAS
NOT gotten off of Craigslist.
Sometimes I feel like that, and other
times I dance in my apartment naked, but who wouldn't to this
retro-style track?:
Or sometimes I drink too much and
smoke a cigarette and talk to homeless people outside of bars.
There's a learning curve for life, I suppose. I'm getting better at
adulthood, but I never want to perfect it. For now I'll make my venn
diagram of things that I would do for love and things I would do for
Klondike Bars. This could also be a good time to start writing a
guide for your 20's for my nieces and nephews. We will, of course,
start with life's most important lesson:
Never judge anyone: you don't know
what crazy acts people will do because it will
lead to the
awarding of a Klondike Bar at some later point.
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