Life in progress


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One-Liner Wednesday – Cushy jobs?

I think I’d like to have a job doing the retirement thing, please.

Photo: Screenshot of ad for jobs that include Retirement Jobs, Blood Delivery Driver, Chemist Driver (where you drive a chemist around I’m guessing?), Baby Cuddler Jobs, Train Station Jobs, and Seniors Part Time Jobs.


If you would like to participate in this prompt, feel free to use the “One-Liner Wednesday” title in your post, and if you do, you can ping back here to help your blog get more exposure. To execute a pingback, just copy the URL in the address bar on this post, and paste it somewhere in the body of your post. Your link will show up in the comments below. Please ensure that the One-Liner Wednesday you’re pinging back to is this week’s! Otherwise, no one will likely see it but me.

NOTE: Pingbacks only work from WordPress sites. If you’re self-hosted or are participating from another host, like Blogger, please leave a link to your post in the comments below.

As with Stream of Consciousness Saturday (SoCS), if you see a pingback from someone else in my comment section, click and have a read. It’s bound to be short and sweet.

Unlike SoCS, this is not a prompt so there’s no need to stick to the same “theme.”

The rules that I’ve made for myself (but don’t always follow) for “One-Liner Wednesday” are:

1. Make it one sentence.

2. Try to make it either funny or inspirational.

3. Use our unique tag #1linerWeds.

4. Add our lovely badge to your post for extra exposure!

5. Have fun!

Badge by Laura @ riddlefromthemiddle.com

 


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96. Scenes from the Second Seat on the Right

Tuesday, December 5th, 1:00pm
Felicia (and Zoey)

 

Felicia sits at the window. Zoey takes the seat beside her.

Felicia: Nice day, huh? …wait. Why is the sun on THAT side of the bus?

Zoey: Errr …

Felicia: Are we going west?

Zoey: Yeah.

Felicia: Damn it! I’m supposed to be going the other way.

Zoey: Are you on your way to something you don’t want to go to?

Felicia: (stares at her) How did you know?

Zoey: Just checking out the theory that there’s no such thing as an accident.

Felicia: Wow. I guess you’re right. I’m on my way to a new job, and my ex-boyfriend works there.

Zoey: (smiling) For the best?

Felicia: (shrugs) I guess so. Only he’s kept me broke for years. Nothing changes. (sighs and stares out the window)

 

Next stop: Wednesday, December 6th, 6:00pm

Click here to learn all about this series, how it works, and where to find your favourite characters.


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X is for eXecute

I’m already cheating once, by not using an actual “X” word and I refuse to cheat again by not using the second-last word on the left hand page that I turned to in my thesaurus as I stated I would at the beginning of this challenge. However. Both the second-last and the last words are the same – there are so many different synonyms for “execute” to mean decapitate, electrocute, and generally put to death, and “execute” meaning to carry out, implement, and generally put into effect, that they separated them. Guess which one is second to last? Yes, I get to talk about beheadings today. This is bound to get gruesome… Go me!

You have to wonder how much they must pay executioners. Can you imagine doing that for a living? I suppose there are some people out there who would enjoy the idea of putting people to death, but I wouldn’t imagine they actually hire those sorts of people. Anyone who relishes the idea of murder enough to actually carry out the act is probably on the other side of the bars anyway. So then who gets to do it? An individual who believes so faithfully in the justice system that he (or she–I’m going with “he” for the remainder of this post) can justify the task in his own conscience? Someone who’s being paid a fortune?

Still, I’m trying to picture the sleep patterns of a person who has enough money to buy anything he wants because of this high-paying “dream job” only the one thing he can’t buy out of is the image running through his mind as he lays his head upon the pillow each night.

How much would you demand to do the job? They couldn’t pay me enough.


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How Did you Pronounce That?

At the mall this morning I walked into a shop, where the clerk behind the counter was speaking on the phone. Her name, according to her name tag, is Theresa Thomas.  I stood before her and she held up her hand to indicate that she was almost finished with her call, so I did what anyone would do. I eavesdropped.

As it turns out, Ms. Thomas was talking to someone who wanted her name. This is how her half of the conversation went:

Her: Yes, that’s right.

pause

Her: It’s Thomas. Right. T H O M A S.

pause while I thought to myself, Couldn’t they have figured that out? She pronounced the ‘th’ like one would say the word ‘throw.’

Her: Thanks. Bye.

Her: (to me) Can I help you? (or at least that’s what I think she said.  I was distracted by the ingenuity of this woman’s parents and the fantasy of  how she might pronounce her first name.)

Her: Can I help you?

Me: OH, yes…

And so it went.

Thufferin’ thuccotash, some people, eh?

This brought to mind a place I worked as a secretary/receptionist, long, long ago in the time before children. The company’s salesman, Mike Daoust, insisted on making sure everyone knew how his name was properly pronounced.

“‘Doe,'” he told people. “Just like a deer.”

So one day I was sitting at my desk, shuffling papers and trying to act like I was working, when a man walked in the door looking for Mike.

“Can I tell him who’s here to see him?” I asked the broad, red-faced man who streamed with sweat across from me at the desk.

My finger poised over the intercom, I couldn’t believe my luck.

I smiled and pressed the button, “Mike, there’s someone here to see you.”

“Who is it?” he asked.

“It’s Ray, a drop of golden sun.”

I was tired of that job anyway.


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A Good Job to Have on a Bad Day

Most of us have jobs. Some of us have careers. We all have bad days. You know bad days, right? The sort where you stub your toes on anything available that doesn’t move; your hair won’t do what you want it to; you put your shirt on inside out and don’t realize it until you hear the guy in the next cubicle who you hate with a passion, sniggering… One of those days.

I was cruising around Facebook, wondering what in the world I could write about today, and I came across a picture which has no relevance to this post other than that it inspired me to think: would I want to go to the dentist when he’s having a bad day? The answer, still in my head, was a resounding NO. If you’re wondering, yes, it did resound, and yes, just imagining the idea of a sadistic dentist hurt me in ways that my imagination should not be allowed to hurt me.

Then I pondered other professionals with whom I would not want to deal on their baddest days: a mechanic, a chef, a radiologist whose job was to perform a breast x-ray, a journalist doing an interview… the list goes on.

All this led me to wonder if there’s a good job to be doing on a bad day. I suppose if the job is solitary, there’s only oneself to harm. But even as a writer – a job that can’t get any more solitary – I abuse the hell out of my characters.

So, what do you think? Is there a professional you would feel safe with if they’re having a bad day? Can you think of anyone worse than a dentist?

Comment away, lovely people!


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Women’s Work

I read in the paper the other day about a man in Northern Quebec who is whining about the fact that people don’t want to bring their kids to his daycare. He advertised locally, with simply the name of his business, his address and his phone number. Parents showed up to check the place out, seemed happy, but then declined his services once they found out he would be running it and actually be the one looking after their kids.

Now, while this may, on the surface, seem like gender discrimination, the fact is that people want their young children cared for by women. It’s not a matter of ability, necessarily, but more a matter of instinct. YES, men have most of the instincts required to look after children, but many parents don’t see it that way. Then there are the stories in the news of men (what is it, 1% or less?) who have been known to abuse children in their care, in some way or another. I wish it wasn’t true, but every major city has had these stories.

The article about the daycare brought up in my memory another occupation which I found out doesn’t welcome men. At the dry cleaning business on my paper route there is a wash and fold service. They will not hire a man to do this job. It makes sense – many women wouldn’t bring their clothes, particularly their underwear, in to be washed and handled by a man. Does it make sense? No. Panties are inanimate objects. Even if the guy behind the counter is sniffing them, they don’t care. But women, like parents, are sensitive to some things.

Would you take your kids to be looked after all day by a strange man? I wouldn’t. Ladies, would you take your underwear to be washed by a strange man? …depends how strange he is.

Is it fair that men are discriminated against in these cases? Maybe not. But it makes sense.

What do you think?


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Above and beyond

Good Saturday morning! I hope everyone is having a nice weekend, particularly those who don’t have to work. If you have a regular 9-5, you shouldn’t be working today, right? Then again…

I was reading the paper (it’s become a habit now, since I did my challenge) and was struck by an article in the entertainment section about Jared Leto and his loss of 30+ pounds for the sake of his role in the upcoming movie, “Dallas Buyers Club.” You can see his picture here. It’s really quite shocking.

Reading this lead me to think about what we do for our jobs. Sure there are some of us who flatly refuse to wander outside our job description, but at some point I think we’ve all been in a position where we’ve gone above and beyond the call of duty for what we do for a living. Some of us do it all the time.

My own job, as a stay-at-home mom is 24/7. You might say being on call all the time IS part of my job description, and it is. But at the same time, I didn’t go into it with the expectation that I was going to be in it alone.

His Majesty

His Majesty, for whom I slave night and day

 

And speaking of my ex, over the last ten years he has been working at a few different retail chains as manager. Budgets in these places always seem to be a concern, according to him, and he is constantly having to work overtime so as not to tax the budget by having to pay employees – he is on salary.

I’d be interested to hear what you do that is ‘above and beyond.’ Come on, toot your own horn. After all, it’s rare that we get any appreciation from all we do, isn’t it?