Looking back over my life, it's quite easy for me to see one particular pattern in regard to my employment. That being, if I didn't enjoy my job, I didn't last long there. In fact, I can give you a quick list of jobs where I lasted less than 2 days before telling my supervisor this job was not for me, and I appreciated the opportunity:
Machine operator at a carboard factory.
Forklift driver at a textile factory.
Small parts packer at jet-ski factory.
Cable spooler at a fiber-optic factory.
Press operator at sheet metal factory.
Part picker at a warehouse.
Overnight stock clerk for a grocery store.
Floor polisher operator.
Inventory clerk for a big-box store chain.
That's probably only half of them. Several of those jobs could have led to a nice retirement package with full medical and other benefits. I didn't care, though. The way I saw them at the time, they were the most boring, banal, tedious, and tiresome jobs I could ever do. So I walked. Every time. To the utter disdain of family members who were raised in a time when jobs were scarce and factory employment for a man was the norm and punching a clock in the morning for your 12 hour shift and standing in one spot watching a conveyor belt go by was what men (and women) did, and you either hated your job and dealt with it, or you took pride in it and hoped for advancement. I vividly remember two seperate conversations where my fathers-in-law pulled me aside and said "I've worked in a factory for my whole life, and while you may see it as drudgery, it's provided for my family. You better get your life together and take care of my daughter and your family. Life's not all about you!"
And they were right. I have nobody to blame but myself. Looking back, I see how I missed out on many opportunities that could have had me in a much different place right now. All because I couldn't deal with one particular aspect that all those jobs have in common. I still have trouble figuring out what it was.
So let's move forward and talk about the other side of things: Jobs I held that I didn't quit after two days. Jobs I loved, and what happened that kept me from still being there today.
I worked for a plant nursery for three years as a teenager. I helped customers and gave advice for the best plants and shrubs to place in their yards, and how to care for them. I left that job because I was told that since there was no opportunity for advancement beyond minimum wage, I needed to get a better job.
In my early 20's I worked for a vending company stocking vending machines. I had seventeen accounts I managed. After two years, the company lost it's battle against Buffalo Rock/PepsiCo and went under.
I was a night manager for Papa John's Pizza for two years, then one day I was called into the office and told my hours were getting cut...in half. I took a part time job in sales to supplement, but eventally the schedules conflicted and since I made more money at the sales job, I left Papa Johns. The company I worked for in sales went bankrupt a month later.
I worked as a floor director for a local ABC affiliate, and at the same time worked for WCGQ radio as the overnight DJ. Working the jobs concurrently made my sleep schedule a mess, but I loved them both. The problem was neither job had any kind of benefits, and having two small children at the time made that very difficult. I eventually went full-time with my photography, and left broadcasting behind.
Photography has been both a nightmare and a complete joy. I think it's because it's an incredibly volatile industry, and most people see it as a job anyone can do. Everyone has an Aunt Sally that has a camera and will do it for free. Plus the ease and affordabilty of digital cameras has made my job extremely high on the luxury scale. Luckily for me, I've been doing it long enough to have an established name and client base, and have the experience to back it up. I have no idea how people new to this business in my area do it. They probably are charging almost nothing and praying for customers, which is what I did in the beginning. Either that, or this is a side-job for them, which is what it should have been for me in the beginning, looking back.
Aside from the photography, though, there was a job I held recently that I loved, dearly. I worked for 2nd & Charles, a bookstore that sold comics, all manner of books, music, movies, and all sorts of lovely nerdy stuff. When I first walked into that store, I knew I wanted to work there. I didn't even need the job, I just wanted it. The current manager was kind enough to bring me on, and I loved it. This was the single greatest work experience for me (outside of my photography) that I'd ever had. I literally looked forward to going to work every day.
Then a year or so into it, there was a management change. The new manager was a nightmare, and managed to run off 2/3 of the crew within a few months of their arrival. I held on for as long as I could, but when my hours were cut down to 5 a week, I couldn't do it anymore. I put in my notice and walked away. Eventually, a new manager came, and I tried to come back to work. Unfortunately, the nightmare manager put a note on my record with the company that I had quit and given no notice (which wasn't true) and requested that I be marked as "ineligible for rehire". I asked current management if this could be undone, and was told "Sadly no."
It was a good job while it lasted, and I miss it dearly. There were coworkers who I loved that the nightmare manager ran off who are in the same place I am now; in different places in their life working full time jobs they either love, or tolerate. There was something magical about that bookstore, though. Maybe one day I can find another job like it.
(sigh)
So what is the point to this blog post? Honestly, I'm surpised anyone would read this far. If you have, you must either be a mental masochist, care a great deal for me, or be hoplessly bored.
This is the point, I suppose: There were wonderful people I worked with there. People who dealt with all kinds of mental disorders. Depression. Anxiety. Bipolar. PTSD. Some are still there, some are not. I made a little "family" while I worked there, and I miss them. Going back into the store is hard, because I want to come back to work, but I can't. I want to help customers and recommend books and sort the shelves and make things look nice like I always did, but that would be awkward if I did it without a name badge, I suppose.
For the people I worked with who made that store so wonderful, thank you. It was an amazing 16 months. Never, ever doubt your worth. For the customers who regularly asked for me, you are the reason I loved working there over and above the books and people I worked with.
And now, for you, the reader of this post--when you go into a store, (be it an restaurant, a dollar store, a big box store, a supermarket, or any place that is a retail--serve the customer--type of place, or any service industry for that matter) don't forget this important fact: There are people there who are dealing with all kinds of garbage you may never understand. People who are struggling with addiction, mental or physical abuse, and dealing all forms of depression and anxiety. Some of them are doing this to get paid, and nothing more. But some of them are literally finding a place where we can put on a smile and do something we can enjoy for a few hours. Something that we are good at. We often feel like we suck at life, such as indicated in the "bad at being a person bingo" card I saw a few months back that one of those coworkers shared, and I had to take a moment to reflect on and fill out myself:
That far bottom right one, though. That's facts, right there.
Just please, be kind.
That's the point of this reckless, directionless ramble. It didn't start off that way, but that's how it ends.
Be kind.
Be kind.
Be kind.
Be kind.
Be kind.
Always be kind.
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