On The Various Merits Of Seasonal Employment
So i have been working at UPS.
What does this involve? Surprisingly little, in a cognitive sense. Nothing too stressful, unless there are dogs. Take package. Run to door. Ring doorbell. Run away. It's a lot like those games we used to play around the sixth grade or so - like ding-dong-ditch, except with boxes in place of the flaming poo. (No, we never used the flaming poo.)
I wake up, Monday through Friday mornings, and manage to get myself down to one of the malls south of here. There i meet up with my first driver, and we race heavily loaded pushcarts around the mall. This is actually more fun than it might sound. I'm not a driver, by the way. I am a driver's helper. The difference is partially semantic, and partially also that he's making seventy grand a year.
I do like this job. It's only till Christmas anyway. It's been decent so far, and after my first shift is over every day they've been good about finding me a second driver to give me some more hours. I've met some interesting people this way. Interesting dogs, too.
Plus, i get to wear the brown shorts. Chicks dig the brown shorts. At least my wife does. My high school guidance counselor would be so proud. I thought for a while i was going to need a copy of my Brookfield Academy transcript to get into flight school here in January, but the admissions people finally decided my bachelor's would do. Which is really kind of a shame. I feel that "Florida Community College at Jacksonville" would have been a fine addition to BA's little brag list of alumni acceptances. That empty space between Dartmouth and Georgetown has always been so embarrassing for them.
What does this involve? Surprisingly little, in a cognitive sense. Nothing too stressful, unless there are dogs. Take package. Run to door. Ring doorbell. Run away. It's a lot like those games we used to play around the sixth grade or so - like ding-dong-ditch, except with boxes in place of the flaming poo. (No, we never used the flaming poo.)
I wake up, Monday through Friday mornings, and manage to get myself down to one of the malls south of here. There i meet up with my first driver, and we race heavily loaded pushcarts around the mall. This is actually more fun than it might sound. I'm not a driver, by the way. I am a driver's helper. The difference is partially semantic, and partially also that he's making seventy grand a year.
I do like this job. It's only till Christmas anyway. It's been decent so far, and after my first shift is over every day they've been good about finding me a second driver to give me some more hours. I've met some interesting people this way. Interesting dogs, too.
Plus, i get to wear the brown shorts. Chicks dig the brown shorts. At least my wife does. My high school guidance counselor would be so proud. I thought for a while i was going to need a copy of my Brookfield Academy transcript to get into flight school here in January, but the admissions people finally decided my bachelor's would do. Which is really kind of a shame. I feel that "Florida Community College at Jacksonville" would have been a fine addition to BA's little brag list of alumni acceptances. That empty space between Dartmouth and Georgetown has always been so embarrassing for them.
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