Basically one year ago today I started my first "big city" job in downtown Chicago.
{mind you I don't have this job any more...}
But boy did I think I was pretty fancy schmancy
working in the Wrigley Building on Michigan Avenue.
I was super cliche and even posted this photo on Facebook
with an equally cliche caption like "my new view, not too shabby."
Man, what an ass hat I was.
But c'mon, for a girl from Nebraska that view was pretty cool...
The job however, wasn't so cool.
I honestly really liked/like a few of the girls I worked with,
and we did do some pretty fun stuff-
frequent lunch/dinners at the best Chicago restaurants, regular happy hours at the Trump Tower,
you know just standard stuff for a staffing agency... lol.
That was Chris and I at the work Christmas party last year.
Yeah, I worked in staffing. Although back then I said we were a "recruiting agency"
to fancy it up. But let's call it what it was.
Day after day after day I did the exact same thing.
I made the same phones calls.
To the same business.
And left the same voicemails.
and never got responses...
Five. Days. A. Week.
Never before had I felt so much like a caged animal.
And never before did I realize how painful an 8-5 work day could be.
Grueling is the only word I can think of to describe it.
I remember feeling like I wasting away my life doing a job I loathed.
(I may have been a bit dramatic.)
I also never realized how damn entertaining food could be until working at this place.
The highlight of my day was lunch.
After that it was my late afternoon snack..
And after that, it was 5:00.
Then it all started over again twelve hours later...
Today...
My view isn't quite the same.
My lunch dates aren't downtown at Chicago Cut Steahouse.
Last week I actually had one at Applebees in the Southside,
and as I sat in that torn-pleather booth with all that random shit hanging on the lovely Applebee walls
I couldn't help but laugh to myself.
And I didn't hate it to be quite honest...
Because after that lunch date I went home and took Harlow to the beach for a few hours.
And then I blogged.
And then I did my emails and phone calls on my own time.
It was 5:00 before I knew it.
And I guess I like that more than a $14 glass of wine at the Trump.
(it's a close second.)
For some people, an 8-5 office job is right up their alley.
For me, it's a slow painful death.
At this moment I couldn't be happier with the random ass job I have,
working from home/in elementary schools while having to occasionally act
like a circus performer/business woman.
{maybe someday I'll go more in depth about what I "do"... then again maybe not...}
All that I'll say is that it leaves enough time in the day to do what I really love,
and until I can be a writer/Harlow'sdogwalker full time,
part time will suffice.
(Yes, we are climbing trees here. Because I'm just an 8 year old Tomboy like that.)
{mind you I don't have this job any more...}
But boy did I think I was pretty fancy schmancy
working in the Wrigley Building on Michigan Avenue.
I was super cliche and even posted this photo on Facebook
with an equally cliche caption like "my new view, not too shabby."
But c'mon, for a girl from Nebraska that view was pretty cool...
The job however, wasn't so cool.
I honestly really liked/like a few of the girls I worked with,
and we did do some pretty fun stuff-
frequent lunch/dinners at the best Chicago restaurants, regular happy hours at the Trump Tower,
you know just standard stuff for a staffing agency... lol.
Yeah, I worked in staffing. Although back then I said we were a "recruiting agency"
to fancy it up. But let's call it what it was.
Day after day after day I did the exact same thing.
I made the same phones calls.
To the same business.
And left the same voicemails.
and never got responses...
Five. Days. A. Week.
Never before had I felt so much like a caged animal.
And never before did I realize how painful an 8-5 work day could be.
Grueling is the only word I can think of to describe it.
I remember feeling like I wasting away my life doing a job I loathed.
(I may have been a bit dramatic.)
I also never realized how damn entertaining food could be until working at this place.
The highlight of my day was lunch.
After that it was my late afternoon snack..
And after that, it was 5:00.
Then it all started over again twelve hours later...
Today...
My view isn't quite the same.
My lunch dates aren't downtown at Chicago Cut Steahouse.
Last week I actually had one at Applebees in the Southside,
and as I sat in that torn-pleather booth with all that random shit hanging on the lovely Applebee walls
I couldn't help but laugh to myself.
And I didn't hate it to be quite honest...
Because after that lunch date I went home and took Harlow to the beach for a few hours.
And then I blogged.
And then I did my emails and phone calls on my own time.
It was 5:00 before I knew it.
And I guess I like that more than a $14 glass of wine at the Trump.
(it's a close second.)
For some people, an 8-5 office job is right up their alley.
For me, it's a slow painful death.
At this moment I couldn't be happier with the random ass job I have,
working from home/in elementary schools while having to occasionally act
like a circus performer/business woman.
{maybe someday I'll go more in depth about what I "do"... then again maybe not...}
All that I'll say is that it leaves enough time in the day to do what I really love,
and until I can be a writer/Harlow'sdogwalker full time,
part time will suffice.
