Grannymar suggested: Stick a pin in your Blogroll. Open the one your pin has landed on, now take the fourth sentence from it and away you go!
So, I found myself on the highly entertaining page of Ed. I counted to the fourth sentence, and it said – wait for it – “Of course, I’ve since left that job.” Oh, come on!
However, rather than avoid a close-to-the-heart issue and pick another blog, I’ve decided to go ahead and write about this. Regular readers will know that I’m currently looking for a new job, although it’s not as dire as it first appeared. I was under the impression I was being turfed out, with the words “end of September” echoing in my ears like the sound of the approaching killer’s footsteps in a horror movie. Don’t need to (and can’t!) go into any details, but the general gist of the current situation is that I’m looking for a better job, one that presents me with a challenge and hopefully a salary that allows me to loosen the belt a bit. Until then, I’m safe in the job I have – and grateful for it.
Haven’t a clue where I’ll end up, but it’s got me thinking about all the jobs I’ve had. The one I’m in now is my first full-time job, and was really only meant to be a stop-gap until I figured out what to do with my life. I started it almost four years ago. Oops!
My favourite job ever was my very first part-time job, when I was 16. I worked Saturdays and a couple of evenings at the local Petsmart store, near my parents house. I earned £3.17 an hour and thought I was rich. Those were fun times! I was so proud of my bright red t-shirt and little yellow name badge, and I loved my work. I helped out everywhere I could, cleaning animal cages, feeding fish, stacking can after can of dog food on the shelves, serving and chatting to customers. Sometimes Chris – the manager – let me take my favourite snake or lizard out of its cage and just wear it somewhere about my person as I cleaned the store and “faced up” at the end of the night,* which proved to be quite terrifying for the occasional last-minute-before-closing shopper, who encountered me amongst the cat toys with a snake draped around my neck. There was also a parrot called Flossie, who I just adored. I was mad about The X Files at the time, and managed to teach the bird to whistle the famous first 6 notes of the theme tune – everyone was very impressed at first. Understandably, their admiration wore off when she decided to whistle it at every single person who walked past. Repeatedly. Forever.
Unfortunately, the store wasn’t making enough money, and they closed us down after I’d been working there for around a year (I don’t think it was my fault, though). It was very sad, especially since I was half in love with one of the guys from the livestock section. (However, he ended up being my first proper boyfriend, following the big Farewell Party, so that was a nice souvenir.) After that, I worked briefly in a petrol station on the Doury Road, which was a living nightmare, with kids who came in at 11pm in their pyjamas and just ran along the aisles with their arms outstretched, knocking everything on to the floor. Plus, people kept asking me how to work the carwash, like I’d have a clue, and the manager was a mean little guy on a weird, unmerited power trip. I didn’t even hand my notice in – one morning I phoned and told them I hated working for them with a passion, and I just didn’t go back. It was that bad.
Other jobs have included Sainsbury’s (Glasgow and Ballymena, both equally dull) and the Bureau de Change cubicle in Glasgow Tourist Office (I used to actually fall asleep in there. And no one noticed.).
It’s not a great CV, is it?!
*”Facing up” – the rather odd name given to the task of going around the store at the end of the day, pulling all the products to the front of their shelves and making sure every label faced the front. Ten years ago, and I still remember that. That’s how dedicated I am. You’d employ me, you know you would.