I have a new job. I’ve had it since just I stopped watching little buddy in October, but I finally feel I have the peace of mind to tell you about it.
I’m working in an office, my dad’s office to be specific, one day a week. I’m still a writer and a surfer and a dream chaser with the rest of my time (and a property manager and nanny and surf coach too), but the truth is that dream chasers need funds. Dream chasers need to pay SDG&E and buy groceries and pay the trash collectors to come get the rubbish and recycling. I’m guessing you might have known as much.
I’ve never been just a writer and surfer in my professional life and maybe I’m happy with that. It’s nice to see and try new things. Writers need to do that, I think, or they’ll have nothing to write about.
I try to dress nice for work, although the whole business casual thing is kind of a conundrum for me. I’m in my fanciest clothes, besides the dresses I have for weddings, and I still don’t look like anyone there. I’m not that worried about it, though.
I get to ride the train to work. Riding the train is somehow the most relaxing and most stressful part of my day. Being the coastal dweller I’ve been, I’ve had little experience with public transportation outside of airplanes. I’m always worried I will miss the train or have to sit next to a robber or worst of all, away from the window. But once I’m going, I forget about any work I did or will have to do that day.
The conductor on the way home is really nice. He gathers us on to the train like we’re his children, loading up the cars for a big trip. Maybe it’s like riding The Polar Express; I feel happy and well cared for and there’s something sort of magical about experiencing the same thing as other people. But I’m more excited to be going home to Scott than to the North Pole.
I’m really enjoying my job and a lot more than I ever thought I would, too. I see my sister Danielle and my aunt and my dad when I’m there. I have co-workers. I’m re-learning how to use a PC as well as Microsoft Office. I have a phone and a swivel chair and access to as many pens and sticky notes as I need. Most important of all, I feel valued when I’m there.
I’m beginning to wonder if office jobs have been getting a bad rep undeservingly. I’m beginning to wonder if I wrote off office jobs impetuously. I’m excited I like working at my dad’s office so much because a part of me always wanted to be able to, but never thought I would.
I wouldn’t say I transitioned into this job with ease. I probably wouldn’t say I did it with grace either, but the point is, I did it and it’s working out fine.
I think my dad’s work is becoming more than what it’s always been to me, it’s becoming mine now, too.