Back in the days when I smoked , I went to work for an orange packing shed just outside of Lindsay.  I worked in the office doing payrolls.  I lasted two weeks before I quit in disgust. 

The whole place reeked from cigarette smoke.  Stinking, yellow smoke hung like a ominous fog through out the windowless building, even where the fruit was processed. It was a lot like the office in "Joe vs. the Volcano".   Everyone looked grey and had a persistent hack.

Even though I was a smoker at the time, it made me sick to my stomach to see the overflowing ashtrays, smoked stained windows and cigarette butts floating in coffee cups.  Everyone (but me) spread their lunches out on their stinky desks to eat.  I went out to my car to eat until word went around the office that I was "stuck up".  

I quit, even though it meant the loss of my unemployment benefit.

One of my very first full-time jobs was in a three-person office in Glendale; me, the other secretary and the boss.  I spent my days typing up invoices for plastic pellets.  The other secretary was an older, overweight, Jewish woman with garishly-dyed red hair, very long, dirty fingernails, and a very large nose, who always wore bright red lipstick, and STARED AT ME all day long!!!

She once invited me to lunch, and with no graceful way out, I accepted.  We went to a deli where she ordered a cream-cheese and green olive sandwich.  I almost tossed my cookies watching her lick cream cheese from those dirty fingertips!  BLCCCH!  I lasted 2 weeks on that job.

I was a Level BS18/BCW

Blogister in Charge of Wordsmythery

My uncle left North Dakota to work in the Trona plant just prior to WW2. He returned back to his, little piece of heaven on earth, after the war. And never left.

Perspective. Born in the Ukraine. Raised in North Dakota and fought in WW2. He wasn’t hard to please I suppose.

I spent many a weekend in Trona. Before and after pollution controls. Before and after Charley Manson.

I still drive through there now and then. It’s a great ‘backway’ to Death Valley. Yellowstone National Park and North Dakota.

Not to mention the Dancing Girls in Beatty and Goldfield Nevada.

When I was a teenager I worked at a company that made and recycled burlap bags and rags.  Big squares of compacted rags and bags would come in and my job was to seperate them into piles all day long. I would come home each night dirty and exhausted.  It was that job that convinced me to get a good education so I could get a desk job. 

Figured I could hack working in the field, like my parents and grandparents, so I tried it one summer. I worked for one of my friend's parents, who were farmers. They told me I could earn about $400. that was enough motivation at the time. I worked in the field, installing irrigation pipe, about 10 hour days,  in 100+ degree weather. On the other hand. . I also was able to drive in an air-conditioned tractor when transporting the pipe.. so I guess that made up for it.  haha

I did that one summer, and that's all it took. I honestly don't know how people do that for a living, but I am extremely grateful and appreciative for it. .

Beat this?  Back in my high school days, I was charged with littering and the judge, so graciously, assigned 80 hrs of community service.  Did I forget to mention, this was the same judge who Married my Brother  and his wife just two months earlier.

So, I had the privilege of serving my community service at the Ventura County Harbor Patrol for 80 whole hours of my summer.  What can I possibly do for 80 hours at the Harbor Patrol?

1.  Clean seagull droppings on the driveway

2.  Clean seagull droppings on the walkway to the boat

3.  Clean seagull droppings on the pier

4.  Clean seagull droppings on the boat

5.  Clean seagull droppings AND trash on the rocks along the harbor (seriously?)

6.  Clean seagull droppings!!!!!!!!!!

Just imagine how much seagull droppings are out there in the harbor.......exactly.  Gross.

80HRS people!  80 HOURS!

I am now happy to say that I passed "Do Not Litter Class 101" and no longer use the free world as my trashcan.

Reno,

Considering that the job of, ‘Blogister in Charge of Wordsmythery’, has been fulfilled by Moi, for a considerable period of time. I find no reason that you should become so long in the, ‘Ink and Quill‘.

In the future. Be so kind as to contain your thoughts.

A 5x7 index card would have been sufficient.

Your immediate attention to this matter is requested.

Blah, Blah, Blah…. Take heed of my 5x7 index card admonition above.

Sage

You ain’t nuttin bout nuttin

Yours truly,

Blogister in Charge of Wordsmythery..

Sacrilege. A exorcism maybe called for in this instance.

Sit tight while I search the Blog-o-sphere for expertise. (may not have to search far).

Yours truly..

Blogister in Charge of Wordsmythery. (Not exorcism)

As a sixteen year-old, I worked in the extraction house of an Apiary . Basically, we would feed the honeycomb into a machine that would slice open the caps of the honeycomb. From there, we would put the honeycomb into a machine called an extracter. The extracter would then spin the honeycomb around like a centrifuge, separating the honey from the freshly-opened honeycomb.

What makes this job the worst job ever is that not only did it take place in Blythe, CA during the summer, where it is 110 degrees on a cool day in July, but I was constantly getting stung by bees. Sulfur was used to stop the bees from putting up a fight when we robbed their honeycomb, but this didn't always kill them, and by the time they were "waking up" they were a little upset. Incidentally, between the nearly-dead and dead bees that were on the honeycomb or the boxes that they were shipped in, I was stung at least six times an hour, every day, five days a week. Some days my hand would swell to three times its normal size. One time I was stung in the face, just below my eye, that resulted in my eye being swollen shut for a week-and-a-half. To add insult to injury, I only made $6/hr and had to be at work every morning by 5:30 AM. It was horrible.

Is there no peace for the Wordsmythe?

For those of you who are having difficulty containing your thoughts.

Who better would deserve the prize of a ‘Book’..

Than the Wordsmythe.

A couple of runner-ups at best….

Tom,

That’s what I like. Short and Precise.

And unworthy…

Keep up the good work.

Yours Truly,

Blogister in Charge of Wordsmythery.

I worked as a mobile phone door to door sales person in (I think) '84.  Remember the big gray brick? That's what I sold.  What made this job so bad was the fact that 1) not many folks valued mobile phones those days, 2) you had to convince the purchaser that they had to stay in their cell area or call ahead before traveling for the phone to work and 3) the cost was high and the equipment was big and bulky.  However, I did get to meet lots of self absorbed prima donnas because they were the usually the type of people that would buy these things.  Consequently, these are the same type of people that would berate others who they thought were lesser in societal hierarchy – i.e. mobile phone sales person.  My first and last sales job.

How True, how true

MTracy needs this award!

Kozy, keep up the icons, I love them!