Tuesday, July 8, 2008

My First Real Job

For those of you that do not know, my name is Linda. Not the most interesting name, but it’s mine. I’m also Employee No. 3699 here, even though I haven’t posted much…oh wait…anything about work; most likely because I’ve felt the need to rant about a particular co-worker. I know I’ll eventually have an outburst; I’ll have to because I feel like a suicide bomber waiting to detonate, no wait, that’s just wrong. Let’s just say a pressure cooker ready to explode! Anyhoo, I didn’t want to use ‘just’ Linda, because it’s plain. And let’s face it ‘The Random Memorandum’ is tooo long.

So, that out of the way, I think I’ll start talking a little about work after yesterday’s post. I had always wanted to be an interior designer, but it just didn’t work out that way. It’s funny how life throws you those curve balls, but hey, if everything were perfect, what would be the point?

So I had to quit design school, find a job and figure out how to support two children as a single parent. I set off on the hunt for a job. I got lucky and found one fairly quickly at a local bank. Though I had interviewed for a teller position, I was offered the job of Personal Banker. And oooh, it paid 50 cents more per hour. Yes folks, I started at $5.50 an hour instead of a measly $5.00. Don’t hate.

This was my first real job. I had been, for the most part, a stay at home mom. Now I know there are people out there who are saying that being a full time housewife and mother are ‘real’ jobs. I am not disputing that, but this was my first ‘paying’ full time job.

I worked at that bank for about four and a half years. I learned a lot, mostly about myself. I regained the confidence that my ex had sucked out of me. And I made friends that I still have…

3 comments:

Michael C said...

Nothing beats friends!
My first job was as a stock clerk at the local Jenny Craig.

Selma said...

It is amazing how a job can repair your sense of self. It is very important. Friends of mine who are SAHM often complain of depression and I tell them - go out and get a part-time job or volunteer. It seems to do the trick. And the friends you make are an added bonus!

Megan said...

I like the "suicide bomber waiting to detonate" :) Your first job was MUCH better than mine, an office assistant for a real estate agent that EVERYONE in my town hated and I ended up hating him as well, he was a terribly mean man. :)