Looking over this post, I realize how incredibly long it is. Read or not, I enjoyed writing it.
I think that's what a Blog is for, to release tension, tell a story, reflect on your experiences and maybe get life into perspective.
Stiney51's blog about his "Best Job Ever" made me think back to all the jobs I've had over the years.
I started earning income at around 19 years old. My mom knew another mom who's brother's friend's brother was looking to hire a "runner" for his law firm (his name, by the way, was Mr. Lawless). The job of a Runner was to take all the local outgoing mail from the law office and literally run from building to courthouse to building and deliver it, while picking up mail for my office. This was throughout the entire city (we'll call it Yankee City). Granted it was a small city, but I ended up in the best physical shape of my life.
I think I was only there for 10 months or so.
The next paying job was a local six member rock cover band that played weekends at bars and weddings and the occasional odd gig. "Rukus" was the name, although it was originally "Stalemate" a questionable name for a band lead by a female if you consider the raunchy image it conjures. You know, "Blondie" was Blond. I sang lead, played alto/tenor sax, flute and, of course, tambourine. Rukus was nice for spending money, but I had to get another real job and fortunately the bass player's wife was the manager of a retail store.
Thanks to the bass player, I got the infamous 'day job' at Record Mart in the mall. This was back before CD's when turntables were the height of technology and cassettes were sold in clunky plastic skeletons in a hopeless attempt to deter the five finger discount. This was back before barcodes and each and every album and cassette sold had to have it's spine recorded on legal paper, Band/Artist, Album Name, Record Company, and Spine Number. Every day was spent doing inventory.
After four years I left Rukus to explore other musical opportunities. Leaving the band, however, pissed them off and I was promptly fired from the record store. I went on to join many other bands with goofy small town names like, "Fuzzy Logic", "Rage", "Chill Factor", among others and finally, "I Inside" where I met my eventual husband.
"I Inside" didn't pay the bills, so I had to get another day job. This one was a 26 mile (one way) trip to a metal fabrication plant where I worked as their Military Specialist. That was a big name for a minimum wage Secretary-That-Makes-Copies-of-Military-Specifications-From-Microfiche-And-Files-Them position. A ridiculous filing system of colored dots and dashes (further stupified by the placement on alternating corners and whether one dot or dash was above another dot or dash) was created by the company's owner and who eventually admitted that even he couldn't find anything.
I happily gave up that job and left my Yankee City to move to a Rebel one in middle Tennessee with my (soon to be) husband. My first job there was as a receptionist for a southern drywall company that was mismanaged by two insanely self absorbed (insert lots of nasty verbiage here) sisters. I asked my husband during lunch on a Thursday if I could quit. He said Ok, so I just didn't go back to work after lunch. Friday I interviewed for a receptionist position and on Monday I started a new job.
This receptionist job was at a budding computer company. A nice desk. Nice employees. And an endlessly ringing phone. 14 incoming lines and 5 outgoing - hand written messages. Two years into the job I got pregnant and left to take care of my little girl.
Again cash was tight so I started working nights. First night job was selling "USA Today" over the phone. No computers, just lists of names and numbers from dot matrix printers. Yeah, I was one of those people you hate.
Then I went on to JCPenney's catalog department where for the first year I took catalog orders over the phone, then I was "promoted" to "specialist" where for the next three years I got to deal with the pissed off, nasty, people who felt they had been cheated in some fashion and it was MY fault. Like the southern fried woman that bought a computer and over a year later complained that her kids games were running slow and she wanted it replaced even though the warranty had expired. This was back when the customer was always right ... she got her new computer. Guess what? I got pregnant again and left that job to take care of my son.
During the time I was off with my baby boy, my husband took over the recording studio he had worked at for ten years and we became entrepreneurs. The studio had an SSL mixing board and two massive Mitsubishi two inch tape recorders - the standard in the industry. Two months into our new business a lightning strike turned the tape recorders into giant useless boat anchors. So we went digital. In NY or LA digital had become the recording standard, but in Twangsville, tube mics and tape still ruled the roost and we suffered for it. During the Time-of-the-Studio I was the in-house graphics artist. Designing CD packages, movie posters, business cards .... etc. Learning, learning and learning. Eventually I did my first website for our real estate lady. That lead to other websites which lead to more and more.
The recording studio had massive overhead, and digital wasn't catching on, so I took another day job (and did the graphics/web stuff at night). This was a typesetting job at a huge printing company. Six months into this job I was introduced to a Big Twangsville Producer who wanted to pay me double my current salary to design and manage his 'star' band's website. Hell yeah! I knew how fickle the music business was (is), so I gave the prerequisite two weeks notice (just incase I needed a job again) and did the website. As expected, that job lasted a whole six months.
We folded the studio after 2.5 years and moved back to our stompin' grounds in Yankee City. I had enough graphic/web clients to work from home and have been ever since.
We've moved back to Twangsville, and I'm employed by an out-of-state company to manage their websites and design graphics, but I still work from home. There are times I'd like to go postal on my 'bosses' or just let my hounds wee on my computer, but when I stand back and look, I have to admit, I finally have a great job.