there are often days when i hate my part time job. in fact, working here has made me question my position on forced sterilization more than once. the things that successful intelligent people are unwilling, or more frighteningly, unable, to do for themselves is astounding. the list includes things like changing fuses, plunging a toilet, and turning off a water valve. mind you, i am not a handy person, but i can take off a light cover and change a light bulb without getting confused.
strangely, there are also things that make me love my job. so, im going to make this my second, non-bitter, top five countdown. yey! for:
5) people who talk to you like a person with a brain and dont assume that working somewhere that demands you wear a badge and a polyester suit also makes you a brain dead moron.
4) thoughtful residents who bring me food or magazines, or ask if i need anything from the store on their way out. yesterday someone brought me turkey noodle soup and white girl crack (a.k.a diet coke); today a little girl (see: 2, reason) brought me pizza. someone once gave me two chocolate glazed krispy kreme donuts, a vogue magazine and an us weekly, which is the girl equivalent of getting head from your supermodel girlfriend while watching the superbowl, or at least it is in my world.
3) residents who have become friends, and who come downstairs to chat and keep me company. eight hours can pass very slowly when you are confined to a 2X4 foot space; having people to gossip with makes the day go much faster. and, having cute male residents to flirt with makes the job worth coming to (until you look down are remember you are wearing the vile polyester suit and they are just being nice because you have their mail).
2) kids. ive never thought of myself as the type who likes kids. babies, sure. but kids? kids are snotty and whiny and have jam hands. generally once they learn to talk, and talk back, i lose interest. however, there is a certain precocious eight year old i have grown rather fond of. she and i play card games and make friendship bracelets; she asks me point blank questions (read: rude) that adults would never ask ("do you want kids?" "why arent you married?" "do you have a boyfriend?"); and i got to paint her nails black for halloween (she was a rockstar) and in exchange she shared her candy. i forgot how fun and uncomplicated being eight can be. i likewise adore a certain french toddler who gives me hugs and kisses and calls me "bob" but calls everyone else by my name.
1) the people i work with who are supportive and helpful and generally fantastic. especially mama vee, who (as the name indicates) treats me like one of her kids.