In ten days, I will be unemployed for the first time in eight years. While I may still pick up shifts here and there, I will have no work schedule (and I have resolved not to work at all for at least the first month of graduate school). This is slightly creepy to me and I am not sure what to expect. Will I go insane for lack of bullshit? Or will I like it so much that I will never want to work again?
This "Farewell, Employment" mini series is designed to look back on all of the jobs that I have held since I was sixteen, each and every one of which I have despised in some way, if not many ways.
My first job was a bagger/cart girl at Meijer. I was 16 years old, and my best friend and I worked there together. The work wasn't so bad, by which I mean we usually just clowned around in the parking lot, attempting to seem as if we were doing something useful. The main reason that my job at Meijer is memorable, however, is because I fell head over heels for a cute Jehova's Witness boy who rather dug me as well. His mother worked there with him, and she wasn't quite as keen on my Christian-raised self hanging around her son all the time. So I was tortured by teenage lust mixed with those eerie flyers that the mother was always giving me. Eventually he and I decided it wasn't going to last and gave up. But those hilarious memories will be with me forever.
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