I started working when I was 13 at a restaurant called the "Bear Cave," in Culbertson, NE. This is kind of beside the point, but the most glaring memories I have of my time there are as follows:
- I was using some contraption to peel potatoes into soon to be french fries, and when the bucket was full I bent down to pick up the bucket and let loose a fart that Zeus himself would cower at. This would've been okay had I been alone, but directly behind me was one of the waitresses. She didn't say anything. I'm pretty sure she liked blue cheese, or...maybe not. I'm not quite sure, but I remember discussing blue cheese with her.
- I was a dishwasher there. Most nights I handled it alone if I remember correctly. One night, however, there were two of us working, likely because it was a Saturday prime rib night or something. The other dishwasher and I were mucking about, and the idiot turned the high-pressure hose on me. This led to me running out into the restaurant yelling/screaming quite loudly in front of all the restaurant patrons. Sue, the owner, was not happy about this.
Anyway, I started working there at 13, then got a steady awesome upstanding job with McDonalds when I was 16 and bought a car. From there I've had quite a few jobs, ranging from lifeguard, teacher, telemarketer, gas station clerk, entrepreneur, graduate assistant, residential treatment care worker, to 9 years in the corporate world with two pretty freakin' rad companies that have some (maybe a bit more than that) push and pull in the world.
My point in saying all this is that it's pretty damn weird for me to wake up and say hi to my boss who keeps telling me it's okay to push the snooze button and contemplate life, the universe, and everything for an hour or so. The boss being me, in case you were wondering. I'm hoping I don't make "me talking to me" a thing, but I can't cast the thought aside.
The first 3 days of not having the "real-job" stuff was fairly unnerving, and it still kind of is. I'm pretty sure I'm going through some sort of CW (corporate withdrawal). It was this unease associated with fear regarding how in the hell I was going to make money. Moreover, holy shit I suddenly had time on my hands and wasn't hanging out with crazy-cool co-workers as much. I was used to fun work antics with co-workers and my walls just aren't as entertaining. For the most part, they're extremely standoffish (the walls).
I realized that I needed to get some social junk in or I would start going batshit crazy (Tuesday I had a fierce backache that I mistook initially for appendicitis, thanks a lot WebMD), so started signing up for meetups. This made me wonder if they had meetups in any of the places I was going to go to, and whether I would need to start some.
Anyway, I went to a Spanish conversation meetup and brushed up a bit. It was even ok being in traffic to get there. That's pretty weird right?