Lately, I've been doing alot of thinking about the past...as an undergrad, I absolutely detested Mondays. I loathed Mondays. Mondays seemed to have gotten here so fast. Of course, that was especially true when you'd just gotten off of one job at 7 am to rush home, shower, maybe have some coffee and redress for another job that began at 8:30. A few summers ago, I was working the 11 to 7 shift as a night auditor at a hotel downtown on the weekends. Actually, all the work that my job entailed-checking the books for the evening, writing down wake up calls for the next morning, helping guests who mysteriously locked themselves ot of their rooms get back in-got done by 12 or 12:30, so I'd try to read for summer classes or write a little before I fell asleep at the front desk.
I remember one weekend, when I'd just gotten into a lengthy chapter on defamation in my communication law & ethics textbook, in no more than 30 minutes, I was fast asleep, my face resting on the open pages of my book with my hands folded in my lap. That was like THE BEST SLEEP I'd gotten all week! Sometimes the security guard named Lester would wake me up. He'd flirt, tell the most obscene jokes or even try to get my number. Lester was a 32-year-old balding black man who wouldn't face that fact that he'd never have enough hair for a baby fro in this lifetime.
My first night on the job he asked, "What you takin' up in school?" I told him English, specifically writing. "Aw shit, then, I got to watch what I say 'round you," he said, as he leaned over the front desk, staring me in the face. "I've got to use proper grammar around you, don't I?" he asked me in what had to be the worst impression of an Englishman I'd ever heard.
It irritates me that once I'd tell people what my major was, they'd feel the need to change the way they were speaking all of a sudden as if I was the grammar patrol. Putting that aside, Lester was a pretty cool guy once I got to know him better, he watched out for me, made sure the building was safe and often asked how my week had gone.
Monday through Friday, I worked from 8:30 to 4 as a day camp counselor at the Y. I had 5 & 6 year-old-s, leading sing-a-longs llike "My Hat Has Three Corners" and "Herman the Worm." I was often far more excited about the sing-a-longs than my group was so I ended up embarrassing myself day after day. If I wasn't leading songs, I was screaming at the top of my lungs, "Please, sit down Shane! Don't lock Kristina in the pool lockers! Get quiet or you'll lose your swim time!" all day until it was time for me to go to class. I got a break from 11 to 2 to come back to campus for a communication class I was taking that summer. By 2, I was back at the Y listening to kids question and moan, "When are we swimming? It's hot! I'm tired!" until I got off at 4.
That was what my summer was like. I never would have imagined that I'd be working 2 jobs to support myself but I was (and I'm still doing it now). I'm officially an adult with responsibilities and financial obligations. There's rent, a cell phone, storage and utilites to be paid for. But I've got dreams and in order for them to come true one day, I've to pay my dues and continue to live One Day at a Time.
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