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strolling with the one girl sighing sigh after sigh

by mg at 09:01 PM on September 06, 2004

Living for a number of years – okay, my entire life – without having any significant responsibility makes it all the much more difficult when, all of a sudden you’ve got all these people relying on you to take care of them.

As you know, I’m recently married. I’ve been even more recently childed. Over the past year that we’ve been married the wife has been taking care of me. She was making those big New York City teacher dollars, bringing home the turkey bacon, and many mornings, frying it too. At the same time she was sitting backwards on chairs trying to make inner city kids care about learning (to the strains of Coolio), I was usually “studying” or “doing research.”

I’m not saying school was easy, but it isn’t work (as that poor sap Snaggle will soon be learning). While I was in school I stayed in my pajamas for entire days; and I sleep naked.

I really only ever had to leave the house on nights I had class, or if the stupid internet let me down and couldn’t provide me with the sweet, sweet knowledge I was looking for.

Sure, writing a 25 page paper is no picnic, but I’ll take staying up for one all-nighter a semester than having to drag my ass out of bed every morning, with no hope of it ever ending, until I’m dead, or retired (at which point I’ll have to wake up at 5:30 every morning anyway because of God’s shoddy work on the male prostate).

But now I’m done with school and as I don’t have the mammary-fortitude to feed little Frances it was decided that I would be the one to head back to work. It feels as if I have been out of work forever. Even before going back to school, it felt like I hadn’t held a job in years, and that I’d never be able to find full-time gig ever again.

As graduation neared, I revamped my resume for library jobs. And started selling myself like reality TV chick looking for a couple extra seconds of fame, even if I had to take my clothes off and spread. But no one was buying. It began to really discourage me when $25,000 a year jobs didn’t even feel it necessary to send me rejection letters. “If I’m willing to pretend I want to work in your crappy library, the least you should be willing to do,” I thought, “is pretend you wanted me there.”

Then the kid was ready to join us out-of-womb people, and I decided to quit looking for a while. The afternoon before she was born, I got a call back from a job I’d only sent a resume to as a lark. I called the dude back in the morning, after having been awake for something like 50 straight hours, left some nonsense message that, I’m sure, made as much sense as a Bushism greatest hits compilation.

Somehow, they still wanted to interview me, and I scheduled an appointment just two days after bringing home the kid from the hospital. Of course, I threw my back out the day before the interview, and couldn’t even get out of bed. Somehow, in pain, all drugged up, and unable to stand without a slight (read: severe) stoop in my back, I mumbled and stumbled through the interview, which consisted of five separate interviews with seven different people.

Then, I waited.

And waited. And waited some more. I didn’t hear anything back for three weeks. I emailed the HR guy: nothing. I emailed the person who would be my direct manager: nothing. Another two weeks passed up, when I got a call asking me if I could start two days later. I’ve been working every damn day since.

And that is the story of Labor Day. The End.

comments (8)

I thought your Labor Day story was going to be about giving labor.

by Eviltom at September 6, 2004 10:44 PM

We Americans need to do something about this scourge of the drinking class known as work. Europeans never work, nothing ever gets done. Why can't we be on perma-vacation like them?

by anna at September 7, 2004 7:39 AM

So have you since figured out what kind of work culture leads people (i.e. your new coworkers) to ignore potential job candidates and enquiring emails for weeks at a time?

"Iím not saying school was easy, but it isnít work..." Simply for the benefit of those considering graduate programs and the amount of "work" involved, I feel compelled to point out that different programs may not reflect this equally. For instance, in the sciences (molecular biology in particular) one can expect at least 5 years of 60-80 hour work weeks slaving away in the lab, exposing oneself to obnoxious chemicals, radiation, and hours and hours in the cold room, for a very small amount of pay. And the odd thing is, we love it.

By the way, it is essential when refering to one's work mates (as above) to pronounce the word correctly: COW-orkers

by chris at September 8, 2004 1:45 PM

i thought it was co-irkers...

by JC at September 8, 2004 1:59 PM

Congratulations MG!!

by jean at September 9, 2004 2:54 AM

Ooooh, I'm positive work will be much easier than school. Now, if I only get 4 hours of sleep a night it's probably due to drinking. Remember, graphic designers are the most insane and sleep deprived at ISU. :)

by snaggle at September 9, 2004 1:50 PM

I'm a lil cock slut.

by Grace Tan at December 6, 2004 12:48 PM

Great comments guys. Peter FDA

by Peter at June 1, 2005 11:43 AM

comments are closed