Bloody hell I have to go to work tomorrow. Oh how I love Mondays - not – puke, spew, gag. I know when I walk into the office tomorrow with my bucket of extra strong flat white coffee my assistant will not speak to me until at least 12 noon for she will be too hung over from the weekend to be able to answer the phone, input data or speak in sentences of more than one syllable. She will slump on the desk, look pathetic and I will ignore her. I know that my work email inbox will be full of problems that people want sorted out and this will stop me from reading my personal email until the afternoon. This will piss me off as Monday is a busy day personal email wise. I also know that my interstate manager will ring bang on 9 o’clock with some drama that really isn’t a drama but he has worked himself up to the point of believing it is. I will tell him to "stop shrieking, get a grip and I will sort it out - so please go away and unknot your knickers." I will then once again sit back in my fake leather office chair and wonder to myself what the hell am I doing there?Of course the answer is money. I can’t imagine working because you want to unless it was some noble cause that benefited humankind and then I would still need access to personal email. Like a lot of people I have had a lot of different jobs. Twenty-six altogether – I counted them. It is hell trying to write a resume that looks like you are a secure and stable employee. Thankfully I am very creative and have no conscience whatsoever. I have been a waitress, a chambermaid, sales assistant, a call centre operator, a government employee (no, not a spy) a debt collector etc. You could say I have an issue when it comes to commitment or you could just say I have a low threshold when it comes to dealing with crap. Remember the story of the Emperor’s New Clothes? Well I am the person that when faced with the naked butt ugly Emperor will tell him to go put some bloody clothes on. This makes me wildly unpopular at times as I cannot always do what people ask me to do when I know there is a better way of doing it - my way. Yes, I am a pain in the ass and I proudly admit to it. Interestingly I have never been sacked. A friend of mine believes that people are too confused by what I say or do that they aren’t sure whether to be scared of me or leave me to my own devices.
I have never had a problem finding jobs as I tend to go into interviews and lie my arse off (if only this was possible). I get the job through sheer bull. I am also lucky that I have a network of people who will lie for me as I will lie for them when it comes to reference checks – always a bonus. I have told some whoppers to make sure my friend Ethel (you guessed it not her real name) got the job she has now. It was an Oscar winning performance – I had the employer on the edge of her seat wanting Ethel in her company. I basically had to back up whatever blatant lie Ethel had already had said without laughing hysterially. Of course Ethel hates her current job and I am now awaiting the call to lie to her next prospective employer. Yes, I expect one day to go to hell for this and other sins but at the moment it all seems to be working out for me.
So tomorrow when I drag my arse in to work I am prepared for drama, pathos and boredom. However as long as the internet works and the printer is free I will be okay. Besides I am planning on winning the $25 million lotto with Ethel Tuesday night so this will be the last Monday I will ever have to work.
Go ahead: Live with abandon. Be outrageous at any age. What are you saving your best self for?
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All right, you've got me beat. I've only had...um, well...a few jobs. Big gaps in there doing the childcare thing. Let's see. First I worked at a Bible college (don't say it!) Left that job to get married. Then I worked at a camera factory. Left that job because I was pregnant. Believe it or not, back then, you had to quit working once your pregnancy was obvious.
So two kids later, I worked at a little hole in the wall factory drilling hole in the center of plastic knobs. Goodness only knows what the knobs were for. Left that job because I was pregnant.
Another kid and eighteen hundred miles away, I worked at the golden arches. Left that job because we moved--again.
But found that the flexibility of working at the golden arches was pretty good so went to work for a different store. Left that job because I was pregnant. Do you detect a pattern here?
Another kid and another move 2000 miles away. Went to work in a warehouse. Left that job when the place closed. Went to school.
Found a job in an office. Stayed a while at that job (trained five directors in thirteen years.) Left that job because we moved 300 miles away.
Retired.
To relieve my boredom I decided to write romances. So far no more babies. And hopefully no more moves!
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