I think I liked being unemployed better. I mean really, I love being the master of my own schedule and the master of my own body. And right now I'm neither, or at least it feels that way.
Sunday night I worked at my first catering gig. One hundred and fifty
guests attended and only 5 wait staff. We hustled, we bustled, we didn't
get to rest the entire shift. You show up and hit the ground running.
Someone (me) had the brilliant idea of riding 3 hours hard with the boys
beforehand - thinking I could handle it. Sure I pipped them during the
sprints and even made it up with the second group on the big ass hill in
the academy but that extra little umph had my legs screaming by nights
end. I will never take for granted being able to lay down on my couch
for hours on end after a three hour ride. Running around like a chicken
with its head cut off left me sore, hungover, and feeling like a train
hit me, backed up and then then hit me again. Ouchie!
there's nothing like getting the promise of that first paycheck, in its
clean, white envelope with my name printed on the front confirming
employment. They never discussed payment or wages - so your guess was as
good as mine what that dollar figure was going to be. Ready for the
shocker? $9 an hour. Last time I checked I had a college education and
management level experience. But I took this job for its flexibility, to
allow me to train and be able to leave town at will. And this is
Colorado Springs. So sacrifices must be made. The belt can tighten this
time of year anyway. And some income coming in is better than nothing,
Time to buy some lotto tickets.