Jobs

I have recently implemented a "topic-a-day" note on my calendar. This will give me a prompt for blogging. 1 a day, Tuesday - Friday. It worked out fairly well last week, so let's get at it again! Also, I don't remember my prompt for today, but I remember one from another day, which is:

I have two jobs.

This is not my first time holding multiple jobs at one time. In fact, there was a time when I held three at once. They were dark, dark times. But I did what was necessary to financially survive a shitstorm, even if it did wreck me a bit mentally / physically.

I remember feeling like I would never again be calm, and like the sensation of feeling rested was but a memory to fondly look back on. I was always sore. (My wrists and fingers even??) There were schedule conflicts (not with my social life, I could not afford one of those at this time. Conflicts with my other jobs). Which is really unfortunate because when you have multiple jobs, you must become an organizational wizard and have everything you possibly can "under control" at all times. And I was fucking good at it. But even so, one of my jobs would always be greedy / presumptuous / shitty and assume that they could put me on the schedule every holiday. Even the holidays that fell under my "I'm working at my other job" days. You see? Not my fault, but still somehow I was the one who got in trouble. Then, of course, if they wouldn't budge, I would have to rush over to the other job at break-neck speed to grab all of the associate's contacts that I possibly could and connect with all of them to see if they were available to cover me. Then connect with the supervisor to see if that associate was cleared to cover me for said shift. Then get shit from the other job that I was even asking. Then, if time allowed, I would enjoy a full-on panic attack.

But only before suiting up and heading off to the next job.

That was another matter of stress entirely; uniforms. One of the three aforementioned jobbies provided us with uniforms. They were ugly, they were ill-fitting, they were polyester, but they were free, and gosh-darnit I didn't have to spend any time at all shopping for them. I was elated. (I was the only one.)

Naturally, it cannot always be such nirvana. The other two jobs called for uniforms (one of which I found to be intensely specific), and supplied us with only the aprons.

job one:
wear all black
all-black non-slip closed-toe shoes
black pants (not jeans)
black belt (plain, no embellishment)
black shirt (plain, no pocket, tee or long-sleeve, no pinstripes or emblems)

job two:
all-black non-slip closed-toe shoes
blue jeans so dark that they are almost black, but not black
no skinny-jeans
jeans must have no wash on them and no colored thread (other than black or blue)
jeans must have no embellishment, no emblem, no thread design
black belt (plain, no embellishment)
white oxford shirt (plain, no pocket, long-sleeve only, no colored threads/designs)
shirt must be bleach-white at all times (pick up a tide-to-go pen)
shirt must be starch-ironed-crisp at all times
do not wear shirt until you clock in (to avoid even a single wrinkle)
no fake nails
no nail polish
no long nails
only one small ring allowed
earrings must be no larger than a quarter

...Jesus.

Anyway. The good news was that I only needed one belt. The bad news is that I have trouble finding pants that fit me... ever. Like... period. Regardless of the color, cut, threads, etc... naturally this alone proved to be a fucking nightmare for me. I was not told I could not wear skinny jeans at first, and I recall purchasing the perfect pair (even though I could not truly afford them, I knew they would be more of an investment). I wore them to my training shift and promptly was told they wouldn't do. I was not allowed to change so that I could return them, and so I was now the proud owner of a very useless pair of trousers. I was walking at the time (no license, no car), and on occasion would receive a ride from my at-the-time beau (paying for gas each time, naturally). So more often than not, I would arrive much too early and much too sweaty, but would sometimes be able to cash in on my free shift food at this time (two sides each shift?? You spoil me).

My current experience with two jobs is much more pleasant. For starters, I actually love my first job (where I am treated like an actual human being). And the second job is so unbelievably great at adhering to my availability. Same schedule, every week (unless I ask for time off). I have a license and a car, I live in town, my supervisors are not bloody nightmares, and - my favorite part - no uniform. So as long as I don't show up in a tube top and pajama bottoms, I'm pretty much in the clear there.

Multiple jobs doesn't always have to be a death sentence. The coolest part about having multiple jobs is probably the fact that I don't get bored as easily. When you have only one occupation, that one place of business is all "work" means to you. It is very specific. The goods and bads are all the same, always. With two jobs you have alternate perks and downfalls, the downfalls never seeming as steep due to the fact that you only have to be there until you head to your next place of business. There is a larger pool of faces you get to see, interact with, be around.

All that being said? At this age and this point in time, I really wouldn't mind just having the one schedule to focus on and work with.