Here read the true tales of a young twenty-something cubicle dweller by day - dreamer of “there’s got to be more than this” by night - trying to find the moral of her everyday story. Walk with Jackie down cubicle lane every Wednesday as she humorously shares the pitfalls and high points of moving to a new city for her first job, building a life post 5 o’clock, and searching for meaning in every crevice of her stu-stu studio.

Dear Fellow Millennials,

I shared with you last week the departure (massacre) of Dark-humored Dan and subsequent drastic changes to my daily tasks, namely that they were multiplied by 253.

Luckily, my salary didn’t change. But I did have to adapt to working in a three-person department where my other two co-workers were 4-5 rungs higher than me on that timeless corporate ladder metaphor.

I felt invigorated to have meatier work to do (though it wasn’t in an industry I had affection for), and I knew that Magnum was proud of me for stepping up to the plate. But the deluge of work felt like it would soon be the end of me (or was it just a new beginning?). I appreciated the learning curves (never a lover of curve balls – who can catch them?), but they came at a pace that left me with corporate stretch marks and growing pains. Reminder: my company had a turnover rate exceeding 25 percent.

A hedonist at heart, I looked elsewhere for kicks and giggles.

Love Hurts. So Does Magnum.

In the early days with Dark-humored Dan, we had a mission: Operation: Get Boss Laid. You see, Magnum was a 45-year-old divorcee and single mom who had few friends (all of whom were married) and feared being alone forever. Her romantic frustrations manifested into behavior similar to that of a rabid animal (quick to snap, prone to biting, always up for “heated” conversations).

With our personal safety in mind, Dark-humored Dan and I thought it best if Magnum found a boyfriend. Soon. Like yesterday. Luckily, she met someone online and all of our lives improved…for awhile.

Much to my regret, Magnum was single again, Dark-humored Dan but a memory and I walked around wracking my brain thinking, “Who can I get to shtup my boss?”

Kickball

I joined an adult co-ed kickball team that played near the Washington Monument on the National Mall. The team was for University of Florida alumni, so it was a great way to meet people and immediately have something in common; it felt like a big family of extended cousins (except when necking was involved).

The game was not the mirror image of the version played as a kid; they pitched the ball violently – it bounced (and zigzagged!). So, seeing the difficulty my teammates were having kicking the ball, I made a request when I stepped up to the plate:

“Excuse me…”

No response from the pitcher, because I’m probably the only person/fool who invoked “excuse me” in drunken co-ed kickball.

“Excuse me, Pitcher…”

He then looked my way.

“Umm, can you pitch it gently….yeah, I like it gentle (shrug of my shoulders).”

He was amenable to my request for gentility and even offered to be gentle with me in other “games” that he alluded to. Yes, chubby pitcher with an under-bite, you’re exactly who I want to wake up lying next to.

My stellar performance during that game was documented in the weekly kickball newsletter (Holy cow, thinks the girl who was always the last one picked for sports teams in elementary school).

Sibling Woes

For young professionals who share a city and genes, the sibling dynamic can change when you’re both no longer going to the movies or out to eat on your parents’ dollar. At least this became the case with my older sister, Julie.

Julie turned out to be a cheater. When both people’s entrees cost a similar price, it makes sense to split the bill – this my sister agreed with - but when it came to dropping the green, she often said, “How about you put $20 and I’ll put $10?”

Sometimes Julie would get creative with her attempts at chicanery like, “I got a parking ticket today…do you want me to be broke?” Who has the entry-level job here?

Another practice (in theory) was to take turns: I got one meal, she’d get the next. Guess who kept playing dumb when it was her turn?

Playing School, For Real

“Hi, I’m Jackie. Happy Thursday.” And so began my stint as a volunteer English teacher to speakers of other languages. The world of TESOL - my new stomping grounds. Nothing felt better than being addressed as “teacher” [T-churr].

I taught grammar (that I first had to re-teach to myself the night before class) and life skills to immigrants one night per week. Unfortunately, because I am a subscriber to Jackie-speak, those well-meaning people walked around DC using words like woah, neat, super fun, yikes, and geez Louise.

Lasting lesson – For many of us, we learn what we do/don’t like about our full-time job, but it’s not enough passion fodder to know exactly what else we’d rather be doing. While helping others (balm for the soul), volunteering can also help you discover what you do/don’t like beyond the material for consideration within your regular job. Volunteering can also be a way to moonlight before quitting your current job to pursue something you think you would like to do.

Cross your T’s and dot your I’s,
Jackie

Popularity: 5%

Share This