A field guide to growing up without growing apart
It’s everyone’s favorite time of the month again. Since we just started a new year, the princesses decided to do a bit of reflection. Being in your twenties is the awkward time when you don’t really feel like an adult but you don’t think you’re […]
That is the question. Okay, perhaps it’s not THE question, but it’s a question I had never really considered until I started working in an office. Now my work life largely consists of sitting at a desk sending emails, reading emails, or replying to emails […]
TGIF, because I really needed a weekend. I just finished my first whole week at my two new jobs, and I’m pretty beat. So far most things are going really well with both, but it’s been mentally and physically exhausting adjusting to a new schedule and adapting to my new roles and responsibilities. And I’m really looking forward to getting past the awkward stage of being the new person.
I have always hated starting new jobs. I never know what to expect, and it’s stressful to have to meet so many new people and get a handle on a whole new office/position/organization all at once. In the past, I have had some pretty bad experiences starting new jobs, though all of them turned out fine in the end.
In 2009 I started nannying part-time for a couple of families in Seattle. On my first day with one family, the dad got distracted while talking to me and didn’t see his 10-month-old son leaning precariously over the edge of the porch. The next thing we knew, the poor kid had fallen three feet down onto the concrete. On his head. It wasn’t my fault, of course, but it’s still never fun to show up for your first day of a childcare position and have the child whisked away to the hospital less than an hour into it.
On my first day with a different family, their dog got hit by a car, and I had to rush him to the vet—not exactly the way I envisioned the day going. Even my teaching job last year got off to a bit of a rough start: I had to report to work on about one hour of sleep, since we had just flown in from a vacation the night before at 4 a.m. Like I said, though, things always seem to even out and reach a sense of normalcy eventually…and I’ll be happy when that happens and I’m not the one feeling out of the loop.
My first job, which I go to from 7:30-11 four days a week, is as what the school calls a Shadow Teacher. Essentially, I am a special education aide working specifically with one ninth grade student who suffered a traumatic brain injury (TBI) about six months ago. He nearly died, and since then has made a ton of progress relearning things like walking and speaking in English and Arabic. I now accompany him to his classes and also work with him one-on-one to improve memory, focus, fine motor skills, etc. It’s new territory for me, but it’s been fun to try things out with him and see him get excited about small steps of progress. This job appeals to the teacher in me, and I love being in a school setting. I’m sure there will be some frustrating and tough days ahead, but this week went great. Fingers crossed.
My other position, which goes from 12:30-5 every day, is as a “communications analyst” for one of the administrative departments at a university. It’s an office job, which I’ve never held before and am not sure I really like. I sit at a desk (think cubicle without high walls), fiddle around on a computer, and help more important people with anything involving writing, editing, proofreading, communication, or design. The main problem I have with this job so far, though, is that I haven’t had enough work to do. I don’t really mind doing kind of tedious work, like reading through long documents, or typing up content, but I HATE feeling like a useless slacker. I was given a few things to do in my first two days, but after that, nothing. And, since my desk and computer are completely out in the open, I can’t just be using the time for Pinterest, Facebook, or YouTube. I have to find something to do that makes it LOOK like I am working, and yet doesn’t drive me out of my mind with boredom. So far some solutions I’ve found are online typing exercises, Excel tutorials, and reading through the novel the other princesses and I wrote. Still, these things don’t take too long, so I still spend a lot of time feeling awkward about my lack of productivity. There’s a lot of people to meet in the office, and I wish I could develop a rapport with them. But I’m hesitant to stop by their desks to chat when they seem like they are actually busy with something, and I am clearly not. Basically, I’m self-conscious and shy in these kinds of situations, and I need to build up the courage to take risks, prove my worth, and build relationships.
Having two jobs at once is great in some ways and crazy in others. I really have to shift gears after lunch everyday when I transition from teacher to office minion. That, not having any naps, and the general stress of starting something new has made me exhausted all week. On Wednesday, I walked in the door after work, said hi to my husband, lay down on the couch, and fell asleep. It’s been that kind of week. But, at least I can now say I’m employed, and at least a bit more productive than I was when I was home alone all day. For now, that’s good enough for me.
Oh snap, ya’ll! Cinderslut had herself a job interview. I’ve now been unemployed for about three months, and I had pretty much resigned myself to being happy with my Master’s coursework and some odd tutoring jobs until the magical moment that a suitable teaching position […]
Starting your career can be one of the biggest challenges of the Twenty-Something Condition. For me, the best steps I’ve taken in my career have been the ones I was hesitant about, the ones that felt like sacrifices but ended up being huge blessings. For […]
I’ve always wanted to be a teacher, and I knew from a young age that meant setting myself up for a lifetime of relatively low wages and under-appreciation. But you don’t go into teaching because you want to make money. Still, when I was offered my first teaching job last year, at an international school in Saudi Arabia, I was shocked by the tiny salary they were offering. It was ironic, really, since most of the expats I know have moved here because of the chance to make lots of money. Yet there I stood, about to accept a full-time professional position that would pay me less than what most of the gardeners and housemaids around here make.
It was a tough decision, because I knew in my first year I’d be putting in tons of extra hours planning and grading, hours that wouldn’t be compensated at all. I knew I was signing up for a stressful year of getting up at the crack of dawn, suffering through an hour-long commute, and struggling to find my groove as a brand-new teacher. And yet, in the end, I knew all along I couldn’t let the opportunity pass me by. Despite the long hours, despite the measly wage, I held on to the hope that it would all be worth it because I’d be doing my dream job.
It’s now been 9 long months of teaching and learning for me, and I can honestly say I was right. I’ve never had a job that paid me less than minimum wage before, but I’ve also never had a job that I was actually excited to go to every day. I’ve never had a job that really motivated me to be better. I’ve never had a job that actually made me feel like I was having an impact.
There were tough days, sure, when lessons didn’t go as planned, or when I had to sit through tedious and pointless faculty meetings. And many mornings when the alarm went off at 5:15, I grumbled. But I never once wished that I had not accepted the job. My colleagues have been nothing but encouraging and welcoming, and my students…well, there are really no words to describe them, other than to say that I could not have wished for a more lively, motivated, funny, sweet, and unique group. The words they wrote in my yearbook sum up the kind of fantastic people they are, and they also prove to me once and for all that everything was very, very much worth it:
“I personally never liked LA, but since the last two years I’ve met a few great teachers including you! Thank you for teaching us this year, it was my favorite class.”
“I am honored to be one of your first students you taught. You made me love LA after a really bad experience with LA teachers in middle school. BTW I am actually reading a book and I am not forced to!”
“Because of you I actually wrote three and a half stories this year. I used to like writing but now I LOVE it.”
Their sweet comments filled up my yearbook and proved that even if I did not teach them every single thing I had hoped to, and even if I screwed up a few times along the way, I made a difference. This year taught me that there are other ways to gain from a job aside from the paycheck. I know this post is really cheesy already, but I had to share because it’s what’s on my heart, and what has been for the entire last 9 months. Those kids have changed me forever, because they made me a teacher. In retrospect, I would have gladly done it all for free.
I recently got promoted at work. Not a huge promotion, but just a lead position that puts me slightly above my co workers. Now this only happened on Monday, so I haven’t really done much yet, or even worked a shift where I am in […]
When fellow 20something David asked if we’d contribute our stories to his blog, 20somethings in 2013, of course we obliged. How AWESOME is it that we can all connect like this?! We’re all so different and yet all exactly the freakin’ same. I love it. Maybe […]
So this whole working for my dad thing is complicated.
The major things are great. We get along ridiculously well and when we get home we don’t bolt to opposite corners of the house. My mom isn’t too jealous of the time we spend together and I even have someone to gossip with about my ridiculous coworkers. So what’s the problem? Allow me to explain in basketball metaphors.
Let’s say I’m a freshman college basketball player and my dad is my coach. He takes me on knowing this will only be temporary until I manage to transfer to D1, but we’ll agree that it was the best thing for me. On the first day of practice I might feel a little inadequate, like the only reason I made the team is because he knows me. Sure he’s seen me practicing when none of the other scouts were looking, but still, I bet the rest of the team is pretty skeptical of what I can do. I know I’ll have to work harder to prove I belong, but it’s fine, I’m ready.
A few days later I’ll be in charge of analyzing the stats and setting up the court for practice. Yeah, he should have hired an assistant to do it but it teaches me more about the game and makes me feel useful. He’ll even give me the passwords to his scouting reports because he already knows he can trust me. Usually only seniors are allowed to help with that.
I’ll get a few minutes of playing time the first game and be thrilled that I didn’t mess anything up. I might even make a block or two. It will feel like I’m settling into my place and I’ll start to realize I’m just as good as everyone else, albeit majorly inexperienced playing in games like this.
One of the other freshmen will grow to trust me and tell me she doesn’t like to play point guard. On the way home from practice it will come up in conversation and I won’t think twice about telling my dad about her aversion. I’ll feel guilty when she sits the bench most of the next game.
A few weeks into the season there will be a snow storm that makes it difficult to get to practice. My dad will trust me to work out at home while the rest of the team braves the storm to get to practice. I won’t enjoy my commute-free day because I’ll be worried the rest of the team thinks I’m taking advantage.
The other freshmen will start to see me as a leader and the seniors will invite me to lunch. I’ll sort of try to invite the other freshmen along but I’ll end up hanging with the seniors alone.
My dad will have no problem putting me in for any player at any position. Everyone else will only play one position.
I’ll stop trying to force myself to call him coach around my other teammates and resign to calling him dad. My teammates will follow suit when they talk about him with me.
I’ll practice really hard to be ready for an important game and my dad won’t play me at all. I’ll feel overlooked and unjustly set aside. I think to myself I’d be getting more playing time with another team.
I play terribly during the next practice, even the other freshmen are more on top of it than I am. He never tells me off in front of the others but once we’re at home he’ll make sure I bring it next time.
The next game he won’t play me at all again and I’ll be fine with it. That is until it’s tied with 4 seconds left on the clock and he calls my name. I won’t feel ready or deserving to sub a senior out, but he’ll put me in anyway. I’ll make the game winning shot. The crowd will go wild.
With the championship coming up my dad will start losing focus. I’ll put things I would usually ask for one on one help with aside and figure them out myself to not distract him. I’ll take the lead at a few practices saying Coach told me you should practice zone defense when really he just forgot to make a practice plan at all.
During a game I’ll make a stupid foul and when he calls me to the bench he’ll apologize for not explicitly explaining how to avoid that. I’ll know that another coach would have blamed me.
The next game I’ll be cocky, over playing and taking more shots than I should. One of the juniors will stop passing to me even when I’m open. I’ll back off and after a few more games the junior will start to trust me again.
We’ll win the championship because clearly we’re the best. I’ll feel like I’m part of something awesome, like maybe this could be where I stay my whole college career.
But a recruiter will catch my eye and suggest I take a look at their program. He won’t promise anything but I’ll be tempted anyway; his program is a better fit for me and in a better location. But I’ll say no out of loyalty; I can’t bail on the team that gave me a chance. I won’t bail on my dad even though I’d probably be more successful elsewhere.
We’ll have a few weeks off before we start training again. I’ll remember what it is like to not be a basketball player at all. I’ll stay out late and work on craft projects. I’ll almost convince myself that I’d be happier not playing anywhere, but I know I’d rather feel proud of my hard work than comfortable in monotony.
At the end of break I’ll find the courage to ask my dad how he’d feel if I transferred next season and he’ll tell me to do what I think is best. He knows it is my life. But he’ll be sad. He’ll say he thought we had another season together. I’ll seriously consider staying for good.
A few days ago my dad casually mentioned I’d get to be in charge of an awesome project IF I stayed through July. He sounded so cautious, like he didn’t want to scare me away with mention of the future. So even though I immediately assured him I really hope I get to do that too, I felt guilty for all the times I’d ranted to him about whether or not to work here. Yes, he is my dad and I should be able to take to him about the decisions of my life, but he is also the guy who worked really hard to build up this company I’m not always super kind to. So I’m working on it, working on the balance. And hopefully one of these days I’ll get it right. Blerg. That ended up sadder than I intended, but I guess that is because it is. I’m sad that I’m not somewhere else living in a big house with 20-something dancing on rooftops and taking over the world, but it also makes me sad to think about leaving my parents and this company which I know is really one of the good ones. I want to be everywhere all at once! Blerg. I know, I know it will be fine. My family will always love me and I’ll make the most of whatever I choose…
Confession: I love being put on hold. I know I know, the dreaded hold is the low of your day, the place you get sent when a company isn’t going to help you, the wasted time spent listening to overplayed Rascal Flatts, the costly minutes […]
The internet was designed for over sharing. Facebook, WordPress and Twitter are only a few of the sites that practically beg you to tell everyone you know what you think about Bieber or what the meal you just ate looked like. It is part of […]
I’ve had a job for three months.
It’s a great job. It pays well, I’m not micromanaged, I’ve learned a bunch of new programs; I can show up at 10 or work through lunch and if the roads are seriously covered in snow I can even work from home. My coworkers are helpful, I’ve got my own space heater and since my dad is pretty much my boss I never have to worry if he likes me. Not to mention the tiny confidence boost I get knowing that I am one of four girls in the entire office building (counting the two secretaries). But guys, as great as this engineering job seems, I’m freaking out.
You know how in movies the attractive male lead always has some rule like no dating past two weeks or cut and run after a month? Well it’s like that for me and jobs. I have NEVER had a job more than 3 months. Maybe it’s just worked out that way or maybe it’s an issue I have with commitment… but for whatever reason it has never happened. I had sporadic summer jobs throughout high school and college and since graduation that trend has only continued. This past year I coached basketball, got an internship, took care of my grandpa and this summer I worked as a counselor – something I’ve always wanted to do. Seasonal jobs just fit me, and every time I had the option to renew I bailed to try something new. So afraid was I to do the same thing twice that this fall I moved home and landed here, in a real person job, not really realizing what I’d gotten myself into.
So here I am, working a desk job, with no end in sight. Here, there aren’t tasks that can be completed in a week, or even a month. There aren’t projects that I get to call my own. There isn’t a rotating crop of people I get to meet or a celebratory party I can look forward to when we secure a client. This is real job, one where I show up, sit at a desk, and work until the clock strikes 5 (sometimes 6 if I sleep in). I photo copy things and look up keyboard shortcuts so I can move faster, I eat lunch at my desk because that is what everyone else does. I even have my own desk phone. This is a real job and one millions of people will emulate every day for the rest of their lives.
But what if that isn’t me? When did I agree to become this person? Who am I to think I deserve more than this? Why does doing the same thing every day scare me to the bone? Is movement really such an unreasonable thing to ask?
Back in college our classes changed every 10 weeks and our schedules were always unpredictable. Deadlines were the name of the game and 1st and lasts became standard. We learned to thrive on change and find some balance even though the ground under us was moving. But now only a year out, everything has already become so settled. My friends have long-term jobs, long-term relationships, and long-term leases; they’re making long-term choices and accepting long-term commitments. All those deadlines and pivot points I used to rely on have melted away, and now when I look to my future I see only an empty calendar. No graduation, no finals, no move, no last week of work. I don’t even have a concert or wedding or a vacation booked to look forward to.
But I shouldn’t complain; half of my friends work Saturday nights and either can’t get someone to switch or are so broke they’d rather work than take it off for a concert. The others are so overloaded they get home and pass out in front of the tv or before they can even make dinner. I know, I’ve got it good. A few more months here will be worth it; experience, recommendations, pay check – there are a hundred reasons why I should stay. But what does it mean when I find myself scanning Craigslist or Googleing travel visas over lunch? Am I unhappy enough to warrant a change? Where do I draw the line between what is good for me now and what will be good for me later?
I’m fine. I know I am and I know I will be. It’s part of being 20-something to question yourself, and when I start to get scared I take a deep breath and remind myself the not knowing is a good thing. I still have plenty of change ahead of me, even if it seems like everyone else is set. My empty calendar means I have all the time in the world to figure out what I want, and all the time in the world to make anything happen. 3 months is nothing.