Tag: funny

I’ve been a lot of things in my life. By that I mean, I’ve worked a lot of jobs. Many of them in the service industry. When I was in high school I helped prepare, serve, and clean up meals for a cast of irascible elders in a nursing home. I also babysat, mowed lawns, and painted houses.

Before that, in middle school, I worked for an Italian priest. Father Nick. He ran the printing presses for several church papers in the local Archdiocese. Way back in the day, a person had to slip sheets of paper in between the newly printed pages so that the ink didn’t smear. It required concentration and rhythm. Fr. Nick hired me for my penmanship. I did some calligraphy and helped layout the publications. Other duties with the Padre involved going with him on various outings and keeping track of Monsignor Hickey. Monsignor Hickey was ancient, tiny, and crazy as a loon. I kept a firm grip on him while Fr. Nick placed bets at the race track. I steered him around Eastern Market while Nick bought the week’s produce for the rectory and convent. We made a wacky trio. Between Fr. Nick’s mischievous, booming presence, Monsignor Hickey’s silent, twinkling eyes, I was an awkward teen-aged girl, a head taller than either of them, along for the ride.

I moved from hostess to waitress to bartender back to waitress when I was in college. I loved the hustle of the restaurant. I loved serving people delicious food and drinks. Despite working at one of the most popular eateries in Chicago, I was always in need of a few extra bucks. So, I would don costumes and sell my dignity by handing out flyers and holding signs for Carson Pirie Scott on the Magnificent Mile. After graduating, I did a very short stint in room service at a high-end hotel in the Chicago Loop. It didn’t end well.

I moved back to Detroit to get out of debt and save money to move to LA. At first I found a job in a china shop. I learned a lot about knick knacks and how not to imitate your boss behind her back. This brought me to the metaphysical bookstore. Suffice it to say that the shop, my coworkers, the owner, and the regular customers, could have been the premise for a great sitcom. I did garner a few useful skills such as reading tarot cards and astrological charts.

When I arrived in Los Angeles I got a job as an interior landscaper which is a fancy pants term for “The plant lady.” I watered green growing things all over the greater LA area. Learning to drive and navigate the City of Angels was a trial by fire. No GPS, just a godforsaken Thomas Guide and a lot of cursing and crying. Once, in a fit of ferocious frustration, I yanked my sun visor completely off the lid of my car. LA is a sunny place. I lived to regret that. While working as a plant lady was for the most part very enjoyable, being utterly invisible to most, or treated as a lesser human domestic, was not. It also gave me a good gander at the nether regions of Hollywood. They stank. The time had come to set aside the actor’s life and find a new career.

I floundered. I took classes. In the meantime, I supported myself by being an office manager for an acupuncturist and Chiropractor. They shared an office and a tremendous amount of animosity. I loved making the herbal tinctures and learning about their healing practices. I hated billing insurance, balancing their dysfunctional mix of personal and business finances, and navigating their growing feud. When the opportunity to move to a Learning Center presented itself, I took it. It was there, I discovered my calling for the next twenty years. Teacher.

Somewhere along the next two decades, teaching stopped being a job and became a part of my known self, my core identity. Few professions are as all consuming. In fact, I started to write about what it is like to teach but realized the brevity of a blog post would never do it justice. And the point of this post is that I believe my time as a teacher has come to a close as well.

The secret to a long life is knowing when it is time to go. All signs point toward the exits. It is time to move on but also hard to let go. A lot harder than quitting a job. I want to leave with grace and gratitude. Before I jump the shark. It would be nice if I had a clear path ahead. But, I think this adventure requires a fool’s hope, a shot of bravado, and a faith in my inner compass. I’m curious. Let’s go.