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Sunday, February 18, 2007

Guest post: Chirky

"One of the symptoms of an approaching nervous breakdown is the belief that one's work is terribly important." ~Bertrand Russell

-From Jes of

Considering Heather B.’s recent misery with [redacted] life, and Isabel’s guest entry about her worst job EVAH, I thought it only fitting for me to write a similar entry.

And so I sat at work all day yesterday thinking about all my past jobs.

I thought about my first job: I worked as an assistant to an elderly man two days a week. My job was to (a) iron his shirts and pants, (b) cook him dinner and (c) vacuum his house. For this he paid me $15 per day. He loved me, naturally, because I’m a good ironer. I love starch. And so did he. It was a match made in heaven, except he was a good 60 years older than me. That didn’t stop Anna Nicole Smith, but I have to draw the line somewhere. Also: gross.

I’ve contemplated other jobs I’ve held – jobs during college and jobs post-graduation. I’ve thought about my current position and I’ve considered my last position.

The problem is that I have a terrible, terrible memory. I watch a movie and ten minutes later don’t even recall its name. A friend tells me what she did last weekend and I call her the next night to ask how her weekend went.

I think this is because my tendency to forget pain that I’ve endured has spread to other areas of my life. Now I just forget. Period.

Sometimes I walk around in a fog, flouting the negative. Often it just doesn’t occur to me. On the other hand, when it does occur to me I am fully aware of how much I dislike my job, I have no problem complaining. But once I’m out of that situation I have almost immediately forgotten it again.

And y’all? I have something to admit to you. And you may hate me a little. But I really can’t remember a job that I’ve hated with such a passion that I’d rather lick the bottom of my purse after setting it on the concrete floor of a public restroom at the State Fair of Texas. That would be misery.

So while I’ve been intimidated and been inundated and been irritated with work, I’ve also had very cushy jobs. I’ve held positions that pay me well to do relatively little work. I’ve held positions that pay me little to do relatively a lot work.

But mostly I’ve loved the jobs I’ve had because of the friendships I’ve made. Is that a little corny? Maybe. But the good thing is that tomorrow I won’t remember what I just wrote.

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Anonymous zandria said...

I think it's awesome, Jes, that you've had such good experiences with your past (and current) jobs. Although if the man who was paying you to be an assistant was only giving you $15 per day, I definitely don't think that 60-year age difference would have been worth getting over! :)

And...ew? Licking "the bottom of my purse after setting it on the concrete floor of a public restroom at the State Fair of Texas." What a thought!

4:44 PM  
Blogger Dagny said...

Ah. But here's the thing about writing it all down. If you ever forget, then you have a written record to read.

And that purse-licking thing? Absolutely disgusting. I don't know if I've ever had a job that bad. And there have been some doozies.

Now I've got to brush my teeth again because I almost feel like there is something wrong with my mouth. Hopefully I'll be able to get rid of that mental image. And then maybe I'll go buy some crack cheese. Because I have enough money to afford the stuff now. And crack cheese cures all ills.

11:49 AM  
Blogger Laura said...

Great post Jes! I agree that the whole purse on floor analogy is completely revolting. But then again, I would totally lick the bottom of my purse after setting it down on the floor of a public restroom at the State Fair of Texas, provided I only had to do it once, if it meant I never had to show up at this mentally toxic cubicle space ever again. (I would also do the food challenges if I got on Survivor, if they would take Canadians anyway, so that might help give you a bit of perspective.)

Really, the bigger question is, why would you set your purse down on the floor of a public restroom at the State Fair of Texas? Personally I would mourn for the purse more than my tongue. (I also really love purses, if THAT might help give you a bit of perspective.)

4:45 PM  
Anonymous chirky said...

I'm delighted that you have each been appropriately disgusted by my analogy.

Also, Laura, you're totally right: I would rather just hold my purse in my hand (or! hang it on the door-hanger-thingy) than put it on the floor. GEERRRRMMMMMSSSS.

5:23 PM  
Blogger VP of Dior said...

fox5 did a segment called "toxic purses" about the germs that the bottom of your purse could have if you put it down somewhere. i too love purses and always recommend using the door hooks!!

10:09 PM  
Blogger Jay said...

Jeepers, I had no idea that people actually used starch in real life before now.

10:32 PM  

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