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| Okay, it's not that bad. |
But it still wasn't the plan.
When I was a wee-child I was pretty set on becoming an architect/boxer/movie star/Arnold Schwarzenegger's best friend. I also had a brief dream of becoming a Holy Warrior sent from God to destroy all things evil, with awesome shiny Jesus armor and a giant Final Fantasy-style sword and probably some kind of sweet Novembeard, only it would be an ALLYEARLONGbeard because that's one of the perks of being Heaven's finest. Then I realized at the age of eight or so that it doesn't seem that they have any sort of application process. Also, the armor they gave me probably wouldn't be quite as cool as I originally had thought.
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| Not quite what I had in mind. |
Fast forward about 18 years, to Veteran's Day:
It's not so bad as long as you can stay detached from it all, though. It's pretty easy to get sucked into a bad case of tunnel vision where your co-workers become your new family (or arch-enemies.) To have your entire day ruined because you put too much mayo in the tuna or you found out a fellow employee thinks you smell like a hooker is most likely a sign that you're not keeping your eye on the big picture.
The job can also be pretty fantastic depending on whom you're working with. Some days it's like a festival of sandwiches, with bread cart rides, cucumber swashbuckling and cartwheel attempts (successful cartwheels: 0). Other days I feel like I've been tied down and forced to watch an entire season of Maury, except, ya know, without as much DNA testing.
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| Stimulating. |
Overall it isn't a horrible place to work, and it'll do until I get things figured out. I spent years running in place, all the while making stops to look behind me. Nowadays it's all about moving from Mediocretown to Awesomeville, which is either going to result in me becoming a huge success or a sensational dud. Either way, it's going to be one hell of a journey.
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| Well, at least I'm making some progress. |
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