Ghosts of Jobs Past: Pre-College Jobs

“Your work is to discover your world and then with all your heart give yourself to it.” - Gautama Siddharta, the founder of Buddhism

I am currently going through a major career overhaul. I'm re-thinking my approach to employment. While navigating this journey, I find myself thinking about jobs that I’ve had in the past. I hope not to make the same mistakes that I’ve made before. At 27, I am exhausted by my inability to find a lucrative job, or career, that I like enough to stick with for longer than a couple of years.

I am obsessed with recognizing a pattern so that I can break the cycle. What better way to do so than to examine these experiences by writing them down?

The next few blog posts will explore my winding road of employment history. Hopefully, no future employers stumble upon my website. (Or maybe this will serve as healthy full disclosure.)

First up: pre-college jobs.

Adrienne as Cashier 

My first “real” job was as a cashier at Target during the summer between my 10th and 11th grade year of high school. I had just turned 16 and decided I wanted to make enough money to save for a car.

I remember very few things about this job. These things include:

• Brad Pitt and Jennifer Anniston’s wedding picture graced the cover of People Magazine during this time and I looked at the cover everyday for a week. 
• I got the CD Make Yourself by Incubus for free because I sold a Target credit card. (This album influenced my life in many ways as an angsty teenager.) 
• I remember a customer wearing a beautiful engagement ring that I absolutely adored. I told her I hoped to have one just like it one day. She said that I would. 
• I didn’t save a penny towards my car. Each paycheck was spent by buying things at Target.

In August, my family decided to rent a house at the beach. A few days before we were due to leave, I requested time off and my supervisor told me that I could not have off and that it was too short of notice because the schedule had already been set.

Of course, giving notice is pretty basic stuff, but I couldn’t fathom not being able to go on vacation with my family! What in the hell was I supposed to do?

“So, what if I HAVE to take off?” I asked, genuinely not understanding the concept of being told that I could not go on vacation.

“I don’t know what to tell you. You can’t just go on vacation without notice when you have a job. You have to let us know beforehand,” my very patient supervisor explained.

Now, to be fair, my mom had explained to me that there might be a problem with requesting off, but I was determined to make it happen. I really felt as though I had no choice in the matter and simply had to have off. I think the family trip was rather spontaneous and I had the option of staying at home with my dad for a few days, but I wanted to go to the beach!

Also, it was the end of summer and school was starting soon. I planned on ending my job a week or so after I got back from vacation anyway. Of course, I hadn’t told my supervisors about that either.

“Well, I don’t think this is going to work out. What would happen if I just can’t work here anymore?” I inquired.

My supervisor, again with disturbing patience, explained: “Well, if you quit without notice, then you may not be able to work at Target again in the future.”

“So I cannot even quit without giving two weeks notice?” I asked incredulously.

“I don’t plan on working for Target again anyway so that doesn’t seem like reason enough for notice,” I reasoned with myself.

I don’t remember the exact words that I used to quit my job at Target. I do remember my mom picking me up after work. I don’t remember her reaction exactly, but it probably included her favorite statement, often compounded with a sigh, that she used to respond to something irreversible that her children had done: “Oh well.”

Looking back, I know I had so much to learn. I don’t think I truly understood or respected the concept of employment. At the time, I believed that jobs were simply ways that my parents and other adults made a living. You just had a job. I never delved more deeply into the concept of a career until many years later.

During the next 11 years of my life, I would grow very accustomed to leaving jobs.

Adrienne as Supply/Mailroom Clerk 

My next memorable job occurred the summer after high school graduation. At the suggestion of my mother, I decided to try finding a job through a temporary employment agency. I was offered a temporary position for the summer as a supply/mailroom clerk at Lockheed Martin.

Working in a room with no window for 40 hours a week proved to be a boring and depressing summertime existence. I worked full-time and made lots of money for an 18-year-old, but I was miserable. I spent every day alone in a room with a fax machine, copier, computer and office supplies. I was chained to my desk. My mom and I met for lunch one day in the cafeteria (she worked for IBM in an adjoining office building) and I vowed never to work in an office again. She admitted that it wasn’t for everyone.

This was also my first experience working with grown-ass women who acted like they were in high school.

Occasionally, I had to cover the phones in the call center. This was exciting because I was able to socialize with a few boisterous and entertaining middle-aged women. I really bonded with a Jamaican woman who had an obsession with Janet Jackson. Her and I would talk about pop culture and our favorite new show, American Idol.

A woman who worked in another department, but was friendly with the call center ladies, would stop by the call center to gossip and chat. She kept telling me that I looked EXACTLY like her daughter. One fateful day she showed me a picture of her daughter (my "twin").

 I didn’t think I looked anything like her. I guess the look on my face said it all. I really hadn’t meant to offend her, but I could sense a coldness from her immediately after she showed me the picture.

One afternoon, a few days later, she came into the call center with leftover beverages from a luncheon. She asked everyone, except for me, if they wanted a soda. Once she left the room, my Jamaican buddy asked why I didn’t get anything. I told her that I wasn’t offered.

An hour or so later, the woman came back. My Jamaican ally boldly confronted the woman: “Why you ignore Adrienne and not offer her a drink? You don’t even acknowledge her. Are you mad ‘cause she don’t think she look like your daughter? Well, she don’t look a ting like her! What’s wrong with that? No excuse for your behavior to that girl.”

The woman was caught off-guard and apologized for her behavior. She asked if I wanted a soda, but I declined.

I realized that maybe I should have just smiled and politely agreed that I looked like her daughter. Or I could have said that she was beautiful, but I don't really see the resemblance. Lesson learned.

This experience taught me some key elements to workplace environments: always be aware of your reactions and always be diplomatic.

Also, it sucks working in rooms with no windows.

This wouldn’t be the last time I dealt with office politics or catty women. Fortunately, it also wouldn’t be the last time I had strong and sensible women to call out the cattiness.

But, more on that later.

Next up: The College Years