Thursday, February 19, 2015

work is worship.


recently, i re-entered the work-force. in a moment of confusion i applied for the position of head 'setter-upper' for the peggy-brewin daycare at the community centre. the lovely lady who interviewed me didn't ask much. she showed me around, pointed to where the furniture went, where the teddy bears were placed, the lunch boxes, legos and train sets. hardly a few hours later, i was informed by email that the job was mine. that came as a bit of a shock. i went back under my covers for a while. i know hard work never kills anyone, but i've never wanted to take a chance.

anyway, it seemed as though my second day on the job might be my last. i knew it wasn't going well. i clean forgot where the doll-house should be and the little toy stove. the location for place-mats, aprons and toy shovels remained a mystery. it was like an idiot test that i was clearly failing. my employer was patient and kind, but i thought the writing was on the wall when she smiled over at me and said: "this isn't really your thing, is it?" there were so many ways i could've responded to that. but, instead, i simply doubled my determination. had anyone actually asked about my past employment record, i probably wouldn't have landed the job to begin with. 

my first job, when i returned to canada in 1998, was as a house-painter. at the end of that first day, my boss said: "you're the worst damn painter i've ever had." then he added: "i thought you said you had experience." to which i responded: "i have had experience, but you never asked if i was any good at it." i may have improved a bit over the next few weeks, but I soon moved on to ryan's famous garage and towing company. old doug ryan, may he rest in peace, often told me I was the worst gas jockey he ever had. but doug never fired anyone and we trucked on together until i was hired as a jeweller/salesman at a fine shop in town. the manageress there lost patience with me because i continuously forgot to put the toilet seat down after peeing. having lived in india so many years, i felt i was doing well using the thing at all. eventually, i became an antique dealer and would've certainly been fired had i not been self-employed. 

meanwhile, peggy and i have been together now for a few weeks and, probably due to her extensive experience with cranky and unruly children, we seem to be doing fine.  

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