The Fifth Job.

I figure I needed to get caught up on the Job posts. I don't know what happened there. Oh well. So let's get on to the next job.

I had just served a full time mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. And it was a Spanish speaking mission. So hey, I could use that on a resume. My sister Katie was to leave for her mission about 2 weeks after I got home. So we did some quick catching up and spent time together and she told me about the job she had just left. It was collecting for Discover Card. She put in a good word for me and told me who to talk to so I could get a job. I applied and they told me it would be a couple of months before they hired again. They would keep my application and call me. So I had to figure something out for the mean time. I was 23 years old, dirt poor and didn't have much of a wardrobe. So I went to Kindercare and got a quick job to fill the time and get some money.

At the end of June I got a call from Discover Card saying they wanted an interview. Yes! So I went in and was hired. My start date would be July 5. So I quit my other job and worked on a professional wardrobe and began training.

Our trainer's name was Kitty. Yep, like a cat. There were 3 or 4 men in the class and then me and another woman named Shelia. Shelia and I hit it off quickly and were friends for a very long time. In fact, she is the one who got me talking to Wife Beater guy's ex girlfriend about his violent history. The only person still there today is Shelia. She's a die hard.

In the training we were taught about the debt problems and what options we could give people to help and how to make money ourselves by helping them pay their delinquent bills. We read a lot, listened to actual collection calls being made, practiced a lot and, after a few weeks, we were ready to go out on the floor.

We were each assigned to teams we would be working on. We were all pretty well split up and that made us all especially nervous. One of the things our trainer did was to tell each of us what our strengths were and how those strengths would help us collect. For me she said this, “Jennie is going to kill with kindness.” Now one thing you must remember is that I am much crankier now than almost 20 years ago. So killing with kindness wasn't a stretch. There were some who didn't think I'd actually make it out on the floor because of my kindness. But I did okay.

I eventually worked my way up a little to other levels of delinquency. I did pretty well and earned great incentive each month. I also took Spanish calls after learning how to speak Collections in Spanish. I had an opportunity to be on a team of people who were trained to work with card members who were in the military. I learned quickly that asking for a delinquent military man's commanding officer was a great way to get a payment.

One of the things I heard every single day was “you can't get blood from a turnip” or “you can't get blood from a stone”. After getting this for a while I began asking the person if he was a turnip or a stone. Sometimes I got hung up on. Sometimes I got a huffy, sputtering response that ended in a hang up. So I gave up on that and began to just say “we aren't asking for blood ma'am” or even letting them know that they could get money by donating blood. Or plasma. Offering a side job of delivering pizza or getting a paper route were sometimes taken with gratitude. But more often than not, if you are in debt with one credit card, you are in debt with other creditors.

Many of the delinquent card holders were older people who got the applications in the mail and filled them out and sent them in. Then they bought groceries or medicine or dog food with the card. And because they are on a fixed income, the balance doesn't get paid. Others of the many delinquent card holders were in that very same predicament, but they were college students with no job. And the rest were people like you and me, with children and stuff and who lost a job or had a pay cut or who just got in over their heads.

Let's talk about cars. When I got home I drove my dad's hobby, the rotary engine Mazda RX7. It was a piece. Of HUD. I began work at 1:30 in the afternoon, so getting to work wasn't a problem. The problem was that I got off work at 10 pm. That meant a cold engine. With a cold engine I found this car had a noise problem. It would backfire. LOUDLY. So many nights I would leave the DC parking lot and backfire very loudly as I did so. Heads would turn. Every once in a while someone would duck. The next car I drove was a cute blue 4 door Geo Prism. With no guts. It took about 3 days to get to 60 mph. And that's with the A/C off. But it was quiet. Aahh. Peaceful. I paid my dad for use of the car but knew I'd need my very own transportation. So I saved for my very own car. After the wardrobe was furnished, of course.

My job supplied me with an income worthy of purchasing a car. After a couple years' work I had enough for a down payment, insurance and months of payments. I went with my sister Katie to look around. I wanted something quiet and fast. I fell in love with a lovely fast quiet green 4 door Pontiac Grand Am. I got in to test drive, put the A/C on high and went for an uphill road. It took that uphill like it was down hill. And with the A/C on! I bought it.

In that very fast Grand Am I got many a speeding ticket. But I loved that car. In fact, it's the one I drove until we bought the mini van after Sam was born. Now my love is a blue fast quiet and durable Dodge Durango. Fast. Quiet. What more could a girl want.

Okay. Back to the job. I was with Discover Card in Collections for just short of 5 years when I knew my whole life needed a shake up. I was 27, single, well dressed and bored. I had broken off recent datings with a polygamist and a wife beater. I knew I needed a change. My dad came to talk to me one night and said that there was an Allstate agent in Provo who was looking for an office manager who could speak Spanish and be in it for the long haul. He told him about me and said he'd pass the info along. I got the agent's card and planned to call. At about the same time, I knew I would be single for the rest of my life and was set apart to be a Temple Ordinance worker. I also was looking into moving to the Provo area and going back to school for a teaching degree. I gave my 2 weeks notice after being hired by Dave the Allstate agent.

Discover Card helped shape my post mission life. I learned how to work with people even though we would never be face to face. I also learned to work with people right in front of me. I overcame certain shyness and, though I killed with kindness, I grew a stronger backbone and desire to never be in any position to owe someone money while they profited from it. I gained compassion for those who suffer from bad financial choices but also gained a certainty that debt is a choice. I'm grateful for the friendships I gained while I worked there. Shelia. Natalee. Catherine. Christopher. Dave. Jana. And many more. Their life experiences and personalities and choices helped me determine how to live my life in a way that I wouldn't regret anything. But most of all, those almost 5 years make me glad I have the best job ever right now. Mom.

Mom's Maid Service.

As a mom do you ever feel like a maid? And then feel you don't get paid enough to be a maid? I decided if I am going to be a maid, I needed to charge for my services. This whole motherhood thing isn't a cash cow, you know! So here's what I just laid out for my kiddos. It's called Mom's Maid Service. And for whatever they happen to leave out, not put away or clear or just plain don't do, I now will gladly do it. Only they will pay me for my services. Here is a list of my fees...
I even have a jingle...

I also wear the most ridiculous apron I own. That's how they know I'm out to make some cash. I dared them to keep me out of business. We'll see just how lucrative this business can be.

The Rules Of Summer Vacay.

I have 3 kids. We've been on summer vacation for 3 weeks now. Besides the fact that we get bored easy, no one was brushing their teeth. Or eating breakfast. So I made some rules.

This is the initial rule list. Eating breakfast MUST happen by 9 am. Otherwise they are out of luck and are hungry until lunch time. And lunch happens when I say it happens. Mean mom. But we have clean teeth, full tummies and things are generally more tidy. Oh. I'm also making money off my kids' lack of following the rules!
I had to throw some limits up for every day. And some ideas for boredom. Sometimes we forget that there are fun things to do. I threw in the $5 for reading a grade level chapter book on a whim. My summers as a kid were filled with book reading. So I'm making my kids read. And it will help Ruthie and Sammy earn faster for their DS systems. My goal is for them to have money to buy before we travel to California for our Disneyland trip.

There are other things that should be on this particular list to do this summer. Then I realized last night that the Manti Pageant ends next week. We won't be going this year. One big highlight is Lagoon. We have been going once a week since it opened and I now feel we have earned the right to never have to go back. Ever. But it's fun and we only spend a couple of hours each time. We will be going to Lagoon-a-beach with Daniel next week. The movie deal this year still includes our wonderful friends Kim and Jessica. But they've been added to. Cute EmmaLi is here. She's new from China and we think she's a doll. If we make it to all 12 summer movies (think really cold theater with soda and popcorn when it's 100 degrees outside) we get 4 free movie tickets each! We are looking forward to Autumn movies.

I'll let you know when we do the KOA Kamping. We have a destination, just need to find the dates.

Tomorrow we will add Vegeta to our pasture. We are so excited!

The Fourth Job.

The long wait for this post is to symbolize the long wait before I had another job. But first I need to edit my last job post. Katie was 15. I so don't remember that. So that means I was younger than I thought and I drove to and from work every time. I guess I was confusing the 'Katie takes over the car' stuff with high school in Utah. So there.

Now. After leaving Godfather's Pizza, I remained jobless. We got word that we were transferring. To Utah. So I didn't get another job. And now, a therapy moment. We moved to Utah in July of 1988. Right before my senior year in high school. Oh, just kill me now. Um, then. Never mind. I was excited at the prospect of a new place. New home, new school, new friends, new lots of things. When we got here I realized how much I had needed to get away from many of the 'friends' I had in California. Bad influence. But it was still a tough move.

My dad bought a small car, a Dodge Omni to be exact, for Katie and me to get to school in. It was a car only in the academic sense. It went. It needed oil. But it couldn't be driven in snow. And Katie apparently had to drive all the time. Wait. That's another story for another time.

Let's get back on track...

Moving to Utah did become somewhat of a problem. It was difficult finding a spot in the senior class among kids who were set in their groups. Getting a job was last on my list. So I worked to just be done with high school.

For my graduation, my grandparents, Meme and Opah, sent me a plane ticket to come stay with them in Southern California. It was open ended and they said I could stay for 2 weeks or longer if I so desired. So I went. I packed up my bedroom thinking this was it for me. I was going to California and, more importantly, I was leaving Utah.

After arriving, I found living there with my grandparents, and with my aunt Ruth and her family close by, to be extremely fulfilling. My aunt Meg and her family lived pretty close by, too and we did a lot together to fill the summer. Beach, shopping, eating out, staying up late, beach, etc. I was having fun.

Then Meme did something to me. She told me I had to get a job. Yuck. I was having so much fun. She told me to evaluate what I wanted to become. What did I enjoy doing? In high school in California, I did early child development and loved it. So I said I wanted to be a teacher. There was a Kindercare (day care center) close by. So I went and applied. I got the job!

I was put in the toddler room with another teacher, although I worked with many team teachers over the years. And thus began a journey that helped shape me. Into what? Hmm. We'll get to some of it. The kids were 18 months to 2 years. I loved it. I enjoyed the gals I worked with and got an education in so many things. Cigarettes being one of them. Almost all the teachers smoked. And smoking was allowed in the building. In the break room. Oh, how many times did I come home smelling liked I had smoked a pack? I would rather smell like sour milk from scooping ice cream than like stale cigarette smoke. One lady had yellow eyes, so help me, yellow eyes, from smoking. She had been told to quit, but wouldn't.

I learned about ab*rtion. There was one girl I worked with who would go out with another of the teachers (they were best friends) and said that every time the other girl got pregnant, which was quite a bit, she would go get an ab*rtion. Several times a year. That was appalling.

There was another teacher who I got to be great friends with, Susan, who told me about another teacher who asked her to “swing” with her and her hubby. I didn't get it. Go dancing? The swing? She explained. Yikes. Susan declined, saying she and her man didn't do that.

I twisted my ankle on a block in my classroom and found that you have to advocate for yourself because the business doesn't want to pay for it. I didn't have insurance and they wouldn't pay for me to see a doctor. I finally told them that I couldn't fulfill my duties with these toddlers because I couldn't walk. Judy the cook took me to a doctor. I had sprained it and they had me start physical therapy. Send the bill to Kindercare please. Judy was annoyed for some reason, and made her feelings clear to the director. She still thought I was faking it. Whatever Judy!

I did still enjoy the spaghetti and green beans she served for lunch, though.

One older lady worked in the room with me for a while. I loved working with her. She was slow, but she loved on those kiddos! I sweat. Well, my head sweats. It's just a part of who I am. But I was always hot. Id' like to think it was because the room was kept at 73 degrees. But this lady thought I might die. She told me about a friend of hers who was always hot and who sweated quite a bit. Doctors couldn't figure out what was wrong with her. She burned up. Literally. To death, even. So she told me I might just burn to death. Thanks a lot!

One of the gals was having a party. We were all invited. A few of them asked me if I'd drive them there and back. I said I would. Luckily I recognized the smell of pot from high school. No!! I didn't smoke it!! Sheesh! In the parking lot. That's where the kids would smoke it before and after school. Back to the party. We ate, watched TV, talked bad about other work people. Oh yeah. High class! Then they broke out the pot. When I could feel the effects on my brain I finally said I was leaving. The gals I brought weren't ready! C'mon! They finally gave in. And I understood. I was the designated driver. I didn't go to any other parties.

But it wasn't just “those” things that I learned. I learned about kids. I loved those kids. They were the best little people in the world. But I learned quickly that when you are a constant in a child's life, during the bulk of their waking hours, you easily become a parent figure. There were kids who would want me in the middle of the night when having a nightmare. There were many who called me 'mommy'. There was one little boy who got chicken pox and his mom had to bring him in to see me every day because, well, because I was a constant in his life. I decided while working at Kindercare that I would NEVER put my children in day care.

The politics helped affect that decision, too. I could clearly tell you which teachers didn't like kids. The director's job wasn't to make sure the children were getting the best care, it was about getting as many children into a classroom to make a buck. There are laws about teacher to child ratio. No matter how much one complained about needing another teacher in a room because there were more kids coming in because the director kept enrolling, we would always be understaffed.

I stayed at Kindercare in Southern California until I moved back home. About a year and a half. When I moved back home, I went to the local Kindercare. They were fully staffed and so I went to another school nearby. I waited until the local school had an opening. I didn't have to wait long. I worked at that Kindercare until I went on my mission in 1992. For 3 years I loved those kids. I made sure that if they had to be in day care, they deserved to have the best teacher to care for them. Me, of course.

Working in a day care was one of the toughest jobs I've ever had. So many emotions involved. Politics ran rampant. Drugs and alcohol were used a lot. Not one teacher was required to have an education. No child development or early childhood education, much less a high school diploma. At the time, Kindercare was one of the best reputed centers in the country. And my experience left me wondering how parents could leave their children in such a place.

I am grateful for the experience. I learned a lot. About kids, about other people, about me. And I can most assuredly tell you...I have the BEST job right now. I wear my title proudly. Mom.

The Third Job.

There was a family in our ward who's children I had been babysitting since I was 11. The mom's brother had recently moved to the area and was opening a Godfather's Pizza place in a nearby city and she suggested we apply. They were starting the hiring process while the construction was still going on. My sister Katie was now 16 and we both needed a job. So we went to apply. In the big white van. 30 minutes away.

The interviews went well I think. We were both hired. We needed to come in for training. Apparently making and selling pizza takes a ton of training. We learned about the pizza ingredients and how to run the register, how to refill the salad bar just so and how to wipe down tables. The place was really coming together nicely.

Then it opened. Our arrangement with management was that, because of the driving distance, my sister and I had to have the same schedule. They obliged. Training and actually working are 2 very different things. It was crazy. But there were nice people who worked there. The manager who was related to the babysitting family was really nice. But I don't remember him being there all that often. Maybe it was because the manager who I do remember was so....so....icky. He looked like a mole. You know, like how Richard Gere looks like a rat. Beady eyes, pointy nose. This manager was rude and rotten. He was also very large. And very hungry.

One of the rules was that if you make a mistake on the pizza you had to remake the pizza and the ruined pizza was sent back to the kitchen. In training we were told that we could eat the ruined pizza, but not to make many ruined pizzas. Here's the rub. Mole Manager loved pizza. A lot. Every time a ruined pizza was sent back he would follow it and take it and eat the whole thing. He'd roll it up into a burrito shape and dig in. Without sharing. Rude. And fattening. Also grotesque. And he did it while berating the pizza makers who ruined it. I enjoyed the times he wasn't there and we could enjoy the ruined pizza without him looming nearby. Tasty pizza.

Katie and I always went home smelling ridiculously of pizza. I don't remember really enjoying this job. And Katie always drove. She's demanding like that. You know it, too, Katie! And one night while at work, Katie and the Mole Manager got into an argument. I can't for the life of me remember what it was about. All I kept thinking was, she's gonna get us fired! But she kept going. He kept going. Finally he said it. “You're fired.” And not in the cool way that Donald Trump says it. I believe his face was purple from the yelling. But then my sister, my lovely sister, said something back. “No! We QUIT!”

Not “I quit.” “WE quit.” Her and me. Me and her. But I don't remember being a part of that whole argument. I guess it was WE because we came and went together? We were a matched set? Or maybe I'm just blocking the painful memories of working with Mole Manager at Godfather's. Maybe my pizza scented memories are just so clouded over. But apparently we quit.

We grabbed our jackets and Katie stormed out and I just followed her. Wondering where my next paycheck would be coming from. Wondering what I did to deserve such a fate. Wondering why I didn't just buy my own car so I could have control over my own destiny.

I believe we went back to pick up our paychecks. So that answered that question. You know, the one about the paycheck. But we were also getting ready to move. My dad was being transferred in his job. To Utah of all places. So I guess we would have to quit eventually.

If I were to go back to the Godfather's job now, I would have eaten more salads. I would have told Mole Manager he had a pizza consuming problem and should try the salad bar. I think I would still have worked with Katie, but I would make a deal about who drove when. In shifts. I may have joined in the argument with Mole Manager. Maybe. And I think I would have said, after Katie said we quit, that I didn't quit with her. Then maybe see if Mole Manager got a little pleased. The I would have said “But I do have something to say. I QUIT!” And then I would have stormed out right after Katie. And after that I would suggest that Katie and I go get some ice cream on the way home.

Boy do I love my non pizza making, no Mole Manager, lots of salad consuming and I drive my own car, thank you very much! job I have right now.

The Second Job.

Brother C. from our ward must have known I needed a job. Or at least that I was available. He talked to my parents about me coming in to his office and filing papers a couple days a week. He worked in an office about 30 minutes away and I don't remember what they did. Accounting? Law? Insurance? Dentist? My mom told me about the job and that it would be after school, around 4-5:30, and that I would be paid $4 an hour!!! SERIOUSLY?! That was a huge pay increase for me!

I took the job and learned I needed to wear a dress. So I would get home from school, eat something, change my clothes and get in the big white van. You know those little mini vans you see around? Ours was an Econoline. Huge. Stinkin' huge. Like a whale. And it sucked gas like it was thirsty in a desert in the middle of August.

I would usually have to put some gas in to get to and from work everyday. One day I was putting $2 of gasoline in and when I paid the gas guy he said, “You won't get very far with that.” Oh hush. I've run on fumes in this baby so many times...and have run completely out of fumes in the middle of so many intersections...I know how much I need.

I always got stuck in traffic on my way there and home. So it was a really long day for me. At the office, Brother C. would tell me what needed to be filed and how. Then he would go back to his office to work. Doing what, I don't know. No one else would usually be there. Odd...

One evening the phone rang. I didn't answer it. I didn't know what company I worked for. All I did was file a few papers and go home. It rang and rang and rang. Then Brother C. came out and asked why I didn't answer it. I told him I don't want to. And he was there anyway. He said it was him calling. I apparently needed to practice answering the phone. So he called again.

Ring Ring

“Hello?” “Very good. Now say 'Hello, this is Jennie speaking.'” Ring ring. “Hello. This is Jennie speaking.” “Don't be scared! Just relax.” Hahaha...funny. Ring ring. This went on for a whole evening. Every once in a while after that he would call me. Just for practice. But he was always the only one who called the office. No one else ever did. He even called from home once. Just for practice.

There were so many things about that job that were just...dumb. There were papers that needed to be filed that, in the whole few months I worked there, I could never find the file they went into. And usually by the time I would get to it and remember I needed to ask about it, there would be no one around who knew, or they would say, “Just set it back in the pile. We'll find where it goes.” So much for office efficiency. They also paid me with a check without taking any taxes out. I don't know who Fica is, but he wasn't getting any of my money. A cool $12 a week.

Somewhere in the midst of this fine job, my sister Katie turned 16. The next job I would have would involve her. In so many ways.

If I were to have that job again now, though, I would tell Brother C. to answer his own phone. I would learn the name of the office I was working in. I would ask why no one was ever working at 4 in the afternoon. I would create new files for all those poor people who didn't have a file. And I would care so much more for those poor people who didn't have a file by making a really beautiful and eye catching file. No file! Sheesh. I would buy myself some cassette tapes of good music to listen to on the long drive to and from. I would also bring myself a snack. Maybe a diet pepper for good measure. It was a boring job.

Nothing compares to my favorite job! The one I have right now.

My First Job.

I'm bored. Now I have a plan. Please just go with it....

My first job. I was 16 and my friend Judy was a year older. Maybe more. She could have literally been 25 and a junior in high school. Or it could have just been the drugs and alcohol. Anyhoo, Judy worked at a local drug store called Thrifty. She was an ice cream scooper and had high ambitions. Since I had just turned 16 and she wanted to be a manager, she said I should come in and fill out an application. So I did.

I got the job!! I was a working girl. I got the brown smock and put on my good tennies and went to work. I was being trained by Judy to be the best ice cream scooper Thrifty had ever seen. She taught me all the ins and outs of being the best ics (ice cream scooper). She gave me some store ins and outs too. Like how to get the most from your break time. And that family members of the ics get a discount. Awesome.

Now here is where real life sets in. Please remember, I was only 16.

When ice cream was slow I would stock shelves. Normally it wasn't a problem. I was good at it. But on one occasion I restocked next to the pharmacy. I restocked c*ndoms. And it was a very busy day at the pharmacy. The line, right next to where I was stocking, never seemed to get smaller. For some reason that scarred me. On another day I was restocking stuff from registers and just all over the store. I saw a gal from our ward who was just baptized and engaged to our previous Bishop's son. She was picking something off a shelf. It was a box of Adv*l PM. Scandalous!!

There was a guy that would come in all the time for ice cream. But only when I was there. When I got my friend Jason, a stocker, to go up and scoop for me, the guy looked in the window and saw Jason then kept on going. I knew he was watching for me. So I had Jason stay in the front with me as often as possible. He was a big guy and a bit scary looking. I just thought he was a giant teddy bear. He also stayed after work or came back after getting off to walk me to my car. One day that guy came in and wouldn't stop bugging me. Once I left the ice cream station, he followed me. He kept asking for my name. I finally said that as Thrifty employees we weren't allowed to give out our names. Then Jason came and told the guy to leave. Luckily I didn't have my name tag yet!

Speaking of Jason, we got to talking one day about a manager there. We both had been s*xually harassed by him. He thought the manager was gay, but when I said he'd done it to me we figured he was just a disgusting kind of guy. We reported him and stuck together. We talked to corporate people and gave written statements and such. We would never work with that manager on the same shift. He eventually went to another store.

For my break I always bought myself a 3 Musketeers and a diet Coke. (they cancel each other out) Then I'd sit in the break room and chill. There were some undercover cops in the store. They were really nice and one always wore a Hawaiian shirt. All I could think of when they came in was Hawaii Five 0. Book 'em Dano. They would always say hi and talk to me and get ice cream and then when they were watching someone, they would wink at me and walk away. One night they caught someone shoplifting. They called me back to the break room. Can I tell you how weird it is to be called on the loudspeaker to the break room by an undercover cop?! I went back and lo and behold! There was Kevin. A very large and very short kid from school. He also happened to have one of the best Afros I've ever seen. Dang! They wanted me to sit with him while they did the paperwork and called his parents. That was an uncomfortable evening.

Now here's the rub on scooping ice cream. You smell like spoiled milk. For the rest of your life. Or at least until you take a shower. I always had ice cream up my right arm. My right arm muscles bulged, too. Scooping was hard work. I never understood the need for pistachio ice cream. But it was a big seller. So was black cherry. I don't get it. But it was mostly adults. Old people have strange tastes. One day my sisters came in. I gave them each a double scoop and charged them for a single. Family discount. Remember? I did. My boss was standing close by and scribbling something on her note pad. I then went off to stock shelves. Then my name was called over the loud speaker. To come to the office. So I went up thinking it was about the sicko manager. Nope. She pulled out the receipt reel from my register and began to rehearse the ice cream I just sold. 3 double scoops and I charged for 3 single scoops. "Oh!" I told her. "Those were my sisters." She waited.... "They get a discount." (Duh!!) She then told me we don't give anyone a discount and then told me to leave and not come back until she could talk to corporate. I was stunned. Not even a warning? Not even a “Who told you we gave a discount and I'll take it up with them”. Not even an "Oh it's just ice cream and just three scoops. Just don't do it again and let's let bygones be bygones." Just. Leave.

So I left and since I was home early my mom asked what happened. Oh yeah, and I was crying. I told her what happened and went to my room. When my dad got home and was told what happened he called miss manager lady and told her what for. She said she still needed to contact corporate. Well do it already!!! Sheesh!

Over the next few days I thought about my job. Gosh! Did I still have a job? I really didn't want it anymore. I didn't like smelling like spoiled milk. I didn't like weirdos coming in to buy ice cream. I didn't like icky managers. When she called me back she said that I still had my job and she'd like me to come in later that week. She was really nice, too! Weird. This is what I said, “I have thought it over and don't want to work for you anymore, so I won't be coming back in.” I think she was a bit shocked. Especially after my dad's phone call.

So that was my first job. Like it or not, I learned a lot. Maybe more than I needed. But it was character building. To say the least. If I were to have that job now, as an almost 40 year old mom, I would have told that gal from my ward that Adv*l PM isn't as good as .... And I would have stocked those co*doms with more flare. And I would have given that greasy manager a left knee in the wazoo, and if you don't know what a wazoo is, that's okay. It would have stopped him dead in his tracks. And I would have officially reported the weird guy who liked ice cream. And I would have talked to Kevin about the evils of turning to a life of crime...go back, it's a trap! And I would have given all children a double scoop for the price of a single and if I were told to leave for doing it I would just quit. And I would ask for a pistachio and black cherry double scoop cone for the walk home.

I definitely have the best job ever. Right. Now.