My work experience

{This post is written as “bling” for my bid for a job I did not win… I know.. it makes no sense at all… pretty sure I intimidated them. They wanted to shine, and I’m fairly certain I would have out-shined them *ahem*.}

You do? Cool.

Well, it all started back in the early 80′s when the lady who owned the town’s haunted house asked me to watch her granddaughter for 45 minutes. I was 10. I made $2 and my parents thought Mrs. Ayers paid me too much. I felt it was a fair wage for not only watching a 2 year-old nap for 45 minutes, but also brave the Haunted House.

Even then I was a go-getter.

As a reliable kid in a small town, I was sought after for my responsible nature. I cared for dogs and homes while people vacationed.

I cleaned combs and brushes at a local salon once a week for 4 years. I made $7 a week and got free perms… in the 80′s. Yep, I scored in fashion with that line of work.

My hard-working and reliable nature eventually earned me a job as a bank teller during my senior year in high school. Ah, my first taste of real-world responsibility, some intense anxiety when the pennies weren’t in balance, and a bit of pride in the fact I had access to the vault.

In college, I worked in the campus post office all 4 years, lead a new-student class as a sophomore, and helped pay my room and board my junior year by working as a Resident Assistant.

I married mah man in the middle of my senior year and earned my teaching credential a year and a half later.

I was fortunate to have landed a teaching job right out of college, teaching high school world and U.S. history. And 7th grade study skills and girls health. That was a HARD initiation into the teaching world. LOTS of prep, LOTS of grading and very. Little. Sleep.

Peppered in my brief life-employment run-down, I also worked as a personnel assistant at a farming company, served up greasy food at Jack-in-the-Box, and worked as a summer camp counselor at a ranch camp. And was a nanny for a semester. Oh, and since I grew up in a cotton farming community, I spent a few months picking weeds in the cotton fields.

As I reflect on the different jobs I held… I ponder, “What was the hardest?” A few stand out. The camp counselor position didn’t allow days off, and required us to sleep and “break” with our campers. It was hot and the chores were physically intense. Cotton picking was no fun. Fast food was… chaotic. And teaching… well, while supremely fulfilling, gollyohmyheck, God bless our educators!

Today, I am a mom and  pick up little things where I am able. Most of it comes from blogging. It is not enough to turn the head of the IRS, and not enough to list on a formal resume.

I find I am at a crossroad. Where do I go from here? Tonight, it looks like I go to the interwebz. “Pick me! Pick me! I am a worker! I have been a worker!”

But the most important job of them all has been my role as Mom. It has been my proudest role, my most demanding role, my lowest paid role, and job reviews are not as exciting in this field. I suppose the big review will come… in 10 years. or 15. Maybe even 20… when the children are grown. Perhaps then I will see the fruit of my labor today. The labor of the love my husband and I are pouring into them now. I hope, I hope, I hope…

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