Every job that I’ve had has been seasonal or temporary in it’s own way.
On my resume, it’s the same answer after reason for leaving? I enjoy the change. This passed year, I’ve been a zombie in a haunted attraction, a spring garden planter specialist, a receptionist in a tax office, a manny while the family was looking for someone more perminant. I’ll even be paid to recover from a drunk driver wrecking me. Didn’t even need to apply for that one. Word of bumper.
On Tuesday, I return to the tax office.Though it’s a full-time job, the boss actually calls me part-time because he has another receptionist who he’s employed for several years. She prefers to go home around early afternoon. And to only work Monday-Wednesday. He has another lady, his neighbor actually, who answers the phone from her home and schedules appointments. So I’m more an office assistant and a coffeemaker. But he calls me his part-time receptionist because he’s used to that title being associated with that work. The job is easy and the biggest perk: when he was late arriving for his first appointment and I was waiting in front of the locked door when the client arrived, I would offer to drive the client quickly to grab lunch or breakfast or coffee somewhere close, and they would always insist that they get me something. Always. Lots of free food. Lots of, “You need to fatten up” comments.
On my last day last year, as I filled out the last of the extensions for people who hadn’t been…well, y’all know why people ask for extensions…the boss came up to me a said, “Jake, you’re smarter than you act.”
“You could do taxes. You don’t need to be applying for receptionist jobs. You’re smarter than that.”
And his opinion of his full-time receptionist is…?
“Well,” I answered, “I don’t mind learning more but it’s not a career that I’m interested in.”
He said, “Well. Maybe I was wrong.”
That was the only occasion when I thought, “Glad this is seasonal.”