For the Money

School is winding down, so everyone wants to know if I will be back in the fall.
The answer? I don't know.
Crazy things are (always!) happening at the golf course, Slice's job and future prospects are shifting quickly and almost constantly. So our plans could be changing very soon.
The things we do for money...
In the meantime I will be regaling you with stories of my past employment. I may or may not have stolen the idea from Fig, who always has the best ideas. (Good for the stealing.)

Early years: Babysitting
Details: DREADED. I hated hated hated it. I was never one of those girls who cooed over the babies in the ward, asking to hold them at church and during activities; No Thanks. I was frequently left in charge at home, however, and told to track my time so my parents could pay me. (I didn’t, and they didn’t.)
I was SO GLAD when I was old enough that I didn't have to worry about getting those phone calls anymore.
I got good at: disliking other people's children. Sorry, it's true. I probably don't dislike yours though.

First Steady Job:Paper Route
Details: Just months after relocating to Roosevelt, my family took on the task of delivering the Salt Lake Tribune and Deseret News to 2/3 of the city. EVERY SINGLE DAY. EVEN CHRISTMAS MORNING. This meant waking up at 5:30 on regular days, 5:00 on Saturdays and Sundays so we could stuff, and working hard to get the papers out by 7:00. (I hate stuffing papers.) We did this for a little over a year.
Mom and I were the only ones who had the route truly memorized -this took weeks- so either she or I had to go. Often we did it together. Someone drove, I sat in the back seat and stuffed/folded/threw papers all around town, and we had good bonding times. Unless the driver was Brent or Angie, who were both so grouchy in the mornings that we completed the route in silence.
I got good at: waking up early, finding my way around this place, learning where people lived and what paper they wanted, where. Also folding, rubber-banding and throwing papers from the back seat of a car in seconds. Most especially, measuring the trajectory of the paper from a moving vehicle based on how big it was, how fast we were going and how far I needed to throw it to get to dry pavement. If my calculations were wrong, we had to stop the car, I had to get out and retrieve/move it. At least a minute's delay (and possibly angry words from Brent).
Other awesomeness: I got a checking account. Citizens all over Roosevelt saw my name about every month. Little old ladies left their checks out on trays with paperweights on them.

1 comment:

amy morgan said...

And I probably won't dislike yours ;)