A Tale of Two Jobs: Part 1

About a year ago, one of the tax preparation offices ran a commercial where a plumber (or a retail worker) was giving tax advise to their customers. The customers were a little taken aback by their advise, but when the plumber/ retail associate identified themselves as their tax preparer, they are even more shocked and the company sponsoring this commercial then prompts the viewers to wonder about who is preparing their taxes.

I work two jobs–one at a local college and one at a local supermarket– and I often feel like the plumber or the retail associate when I run into college colleagues or students as I stock produce in my company-issued red polo. 

It’s an interesting dynamic. Sometimes, I look up and call out a “How’s it going?” as they enter the produce department. Sometimes, I run to the cooler and find something to busy myself with until they have moved onto the bakery or deli. And, with the intention of full honesty, it is at this point that I realize my embarrassment for working such a job and my snob-attude rears its ugly head.

As I work two very different jobs, I find it an uncomfortable, yet necessary, juxtaposition. For one job, I need a skill set designed to explain the unforgiving nature of writing and study. My qualifications include a four year degree from a liberal arts college, something I do not often mention to my students for fear of seeming like an elitist. Yet, in the same day, I exhibit a different skill set necessary to distinguish quality and perhaps even give advice in food preparation. Here, it seems absolutely unnecessary for me to think about my degree, a proud accomplishment, as I lift 40 lbs cases of bananas and trim the ends off lettuce.

Now, I’m not saying that I do not enjoy my produce gig. Actually, I enjoy working as a team member to achieve sales goals. I know that, at the end of the day, my contributions help my coworkers in addition to the customers we serve. However, the fact that it is often pair with my other job makes me feel like the plumber from the commercial- someone with questionable qualifications if she must work a blue collar job.

I suppose my main concern lies in my appearance to others. At first, my college related coworkers and students often share the same shocked faces when they see me in produce section donning my red polo as those customers in that commercial I mentioned earlier. Some even don’t recognize me. People, who would have greeted me as I walked through the campus hallways, pretend to (or genuinely don’t) see me. It could be the assumptions made about people who work in retail or they want to avoid asking me why I work there.

There are those who approach me and wonder why I need to work a low wage job. At this moment, I have a number of opportunities and have to filter my reasons to fit those who want to know. The truth is that there are a number of reasons I choose to work in retail, from extra income to flexible hours, a different environment to proximity to my home. I have student loans in addition to rent and “life” bills evident in the so-called real world.

The hardest part is breaking the feeling that I am not meeting my potential– the plight of many twenty somethings.

The Christmas Spirit

December 26th

A blessed day for all those who have ever worked in retail, or who suffer through family functions, or who happen to be a little–if unintentionally–“Scrooge-y” during the holiday season. Between the pressure of making the favorite famous dish to finding the perfect gift to place beneath the perfect tree, December 26th offers a great communal sigh of relieve.

To be honest, I think, December 26th is my favorite part of holiday season.

As a child, I always felt a little let down after Christmas. All this hype for just one day? But now as an adult, I can understand the merits that come with such a large sigh of relieve. We can still enjoy the holiday decorations as we dine on left-overs from that favorite famous dish. Or we can spend time with family, both near and far, without the forced festivities of the holiday.

Now for those who do not stress about buying gifts AND paying bills, read no further this paragraph. I’ve always found the holidays to be a little oppressive when it comes to giving gifts. I can’t afford the types of gifts I want to give when still paying student loans. I’ve always considered it such an odd tradition to parade around gifts given by others as if to suggest some hidden meaning that I cannot come to right now.

But December 26th offers so many possibilities. I’d almost like to image these last few days of December as the true holiday. Media and retail outlets hold December 25th tightly within their grasp, but these few days afterwards allow us to unwind, relax, don our Christmas Jammies and bake the rest of the Christmas cookies while snacking on price-reduced candy canes. The obligations of the holiday is over and now we can enjoy the company of loved ones with a blanket of snow.

My inspiration for this post developed earlier this week. In a last minute, mad-dash to decorate my home for Christmas dinner, I went to Dollar Tree to buy some cheap supplies to DIY up my home (totally Pinterest inspired, but not Pinterest worthy). There, standing in the check-out line before me was a young girl buying Christmas presents to give to her family (I knew this because she was buying an ice scraper, a completely practical but unlikely purchase for this non-driver). As she bought her gifts, I remembered how I proud I felt when I could first make those small, but meaningful purchases for my family. Many of these being small toys or trinkets from Dollar Tree or Wal-Mart. Regardless of their retail worth, these small gifts allowed me to give on Christmas morning.

And of course, aren’t the holidays all about giving and spending time with family?

A Longer Than Intended Hiatus

Have you ever procrastinated on something so long that you then begin to dread going back? Or completing the task? Or calling that friend you meant to talk to three months ago but life just “got in the way”? Or if you haven’t visited the gym and you know that when you do finally get back on that treadmill that you will not enjoy the pain in your legs and your stamina will be gone?

Okay, maybe I’m getting off track, but have you ever taken so long to respond to a message that you wonder if it’s even worth it? I’m the worst when it comes to responding to email, text messages, Facebook posts, etc. I just put it off because I usually notice the flashing light on my phone when I’m in the middle of doing something, like working or watching Sleepy Hollow. To be completely honest, unless it’s work related, the need to respond has to eat at me before I’ll actually do it.

I know–it’s horrible. I’m a horrible person. I don’t even know why I do it. I usually see the message. I don’t intend to be rude. I think about responding. I contemplate what type of message I would send back.

But I never send the reply.

And I’ve been avoiding this venue as well with the same idea. I’ve delayed composing a post because, well, life keeps getting in the way.

I’m not sure if this is so much an excuse as a reason, but I’m a twenty-something, working two part-time jobs while juggling relationships, paying bills, and trying to figure out if graduate school is worth the investment (I read too much online). Add in family obligations, community events, church, New England weather and basic survival needs and before I know it, it’s late and I’m crawling into bed with thoughts of tomorrow.

But this, this here, has nagged at me for the last month. What would I write about? What is it that I want to accomplish with this blog? Which aspect of my life should I focus on? And I let these questions justify my lack of action.

Conclusion? I’m not sure if I can come to one. I know that this may be the first post of many to come in rapid succession or it may be one in a wasteland of time. There are no words of wisdom here, or maybe just some thoughts for later consideration.

To the Mountain

View from Wachusett MountainLast week, I “climbed” to the top of Wachusett Mountain with a college friend and recent New England transplant. Now, it is important when we say “climbed,” we parked at the state reservation and walked the rather short–but steep–incline to the summit.

If you have not been up to Wachusett Mountain (mountain top, not ski lodge), the view is rather impressive for the sheer fact that we don’t really experience expansive views in our daily lives. Or, at least I don’t in my drive to work, the grocery store and home.

Even though Wachusett is rather local, it had been years since I set foot on the rock top and saw Boston in the distance. To be honest, I’m not sure what kept me away. Maybe it was that rejection of being “home” again, but it only made me regret my former attitude. In the fall, I am sure that the foliage is amazing with Mount Monadnock in the distance.

With every step we took up the stone steps to the summit, I felt as if it was a step to reclaiming the New England I once knew. With each step and insightful conversation, I felt more purposeful. Our lives are too short to live in regret these decisions we make when we do not know where to go next.

It was a cool evening and I could feel fall creeping through the August air. What is more New England than autumn?