life.of.sp0rk

Back in February of 2007, I took a job out of desperation (I’d been unemployed since August of 2006) as a legal intern for a very kind lady at her home in the Lakes. It was the world’s greatest job for a teenager: I had my own office upstairs with humongeous bay windows, a bathroom, and couch (yup, it was fancy).

The months went by. More and more I was abusing the kindness of my employer one way or another. Nothing bad like stealing or anything. Mainly flubbing on my time sheet with her knowledge. Not to mention, she was very, very lenient on my schedule: I could call in or leave at a moment’s notice without the need of an excuse. Life, I’d say, was great.

The internship wasn’t, however, a money maker of any sort. I normally grossed around $105 per week (3-4 hours per day at $6/hour and she paid any taxes) when I was at school and around $200 per when on holiday.

I was offered an entry level cashiering job with the corporate office supplies conglomerate Office Depot by a former relative (ex-hubby of a cousin) with the promise of advancement, money for college, and stock options. The cost of all this? 5-6 hour weekday shifts (until 10p or later), 8-10 hour weekend shifts, 30 hour work weeks, $1 more per hour, and a 10 minute longer commute. I grossed on average $150 per week post-taxes. That’s a mere $4.28 an hour! But the promise of advancement stuck.

At that time, I was contracted by the local newspaper, The Tuscaloosa News, which included weekly articles and meetings for a very small commission of $25 . I actually was under contract until recently when my editor became a journalism professor. To be honest: I loved that job because I met absolutely fantastic people that I still keep up with today, had a wonderful journalism experience, and finally got some of my writing published.

So, I was working three jobs at once. Four if you include my 9 hour school days. This all lead to a total sum of little sleep and little time at all. Which everyone knows is very drastic on anyone.

In the spring semester of 2006, I had failed my first class: Algebra 2 with Trig (a required course for an advanced diploma) So, fall of my senior year was the likely choice to retake the horrid class.

On October 4, 2006, I went under the knife in a planned surgery. I was expected to be fully recovered by the end of the week (which was a holiday, thankfully). However, I wasn’t recovered: I still had two drain bulbs sticking out of me. My principal Mrs. McBride said I didn’t need to come back until they were out. Which happened to be two weeks later than planned.

I was put on Homebound, which means teachers sent things home and I’m considered at school. Yuppie. Except, a lot of the teachers didn’t get the notice and didn’t send work. And, I missed 3 tests (and the corresponding chapters) in Algebra 2.

Let’s recap! I’m working 3 jobs with a 40 to 45 hour per week work load. I’m schooling 9 hours per day. And now I’m 3 weeks behind in all of my classes.

For some reason, I was bias with my time toward Office Depot (maybe it was the biweekly $300 check?) and decided to neglect the internship, freelancing, and school.

Neglect means I cut hours back on the internship to 2 days per week for 3 hours each day. I started missing deadlines and writing poorly at The Tuscaloosa News. And I stopped doing any homework at school.

I ended up quitting the internship after stepping on her toes because of scheduling problems and my own work ethic. I was moved from front page writer to back page contributor. And I failed Algebra 2 with Trig for the second time.

Once my mom found out about my failure, I was immediately told to leave my Office Depot job with my manager telling me I “could’ve told [him]” (the man had great timing). And: I wasn’t graduating high school.

Fast forward to May: my mom ended up using her forceful mother powers (along side her very powerful noggin) to get me across the stage and get my diploma. I move out and started working at Office Depot again.

After nearly a year, I hadn’t move anywhere but the same spot: a lonely cashier. That stock plan? “Oh, you have to be 18… Oh well!” And the scholarship? “We’ll discuss that later.”

I had a wreck after just 3 weeks of going back to work. I was out of a vehicle and had just quit my job (yep, I did). I had promised my manager pre-wreck that I would stay on board. However, being vehicle-less meant no driving and no work, except to him. I was given a nice chewing out and since then (early June) I haven’t heard from him.

Recently, I received a check for all the vacation hours I had accrued over the year. Gee, thanks for saying bye?

Now, I’m down on my knees begging for my internship back. I’m hoping she’ll say yes. I’ve honestly learned a valuable lesson: don’t go for shiny stock plans when you’re happy at work for less money. Or something like that.

Sorry for such a long post with such a small moral. =]

Ciao,
Logan