I am tired of the headlines. So, I let my mind wander this morning. It wandered back to past jobs since work is crazy busy. Let's go with it. Not food, but let's have a laugh here.
I never stress over having a "bad" job. And I figure by the time I got here, I've seen enough that not a whole lot is going to surprise me at a desk job anyway. Because my work has been plenty weird over the years, and not just the shark wrangling.
At my first job, I worked at a resthome. We had a little bit of everything schizophrenics, Parkinsons, Alzheimers, and just plain senile. By the tender age of 16, I'd been propositioned by septuagenarians, battled invisible snakes, aborted spontaneous undressing, and queried as to whether or not shaving your head makes the voices go away. The answer is no, just your hair.
The strange trend of nudity and insanity in the work place seems to have marked my early career. Everything from male strippers as models in the studio, to reviewing portfolios and being asked by very attactive men and women both, "Which nude photo of me do you like best?" And getting paid for it. Full. Frontal. Nudity.
This was a common thread for three of my first jobs out of college. But likely the weirdest moment was photographing one of my bosses nude for his wife's birthday.
There is no stranger moment at the office yet, than standing next to your naked boss discussing the lighting. HR managers everywhere are cringing and looking for the number of the legal department at this, I am sure.
Finally, after some detours to saner work wrangling sharks and the like, I landed in a desk job. I don't have to worry as much these days. The only head-shaving is an annual charity event, and so far the only time we've come close to nudity around here is when the kid who works for me got hideously drunk at an office "talent show," ripped off his coat to expose wearing just a pair of "Home of the Whopper" briefs, beat his chest, yelled something drunken, and ran off stage. He won. But it was a close tie with another one doing contortions. I kid you not.
Around here, that makes you a legend. Doesn't get you fired. Or, didn't then. But even those days have mellowed as we gotten larger and more "professional." I have to admit, once in a while, I look across the cube at my coworker and still giggle a bit. He's put up with nine years of me at arms length, poor guy. So far, we've never yet spotted an imaginary snake.
All good. My career must be headed in the right direction.