Whistling While I Work

Dear That’s Life,

Paying recently at a department store counter, the woman helping me commented that she used to wear high-heeled shoes all day. “I used to run to the train in heels,” she said. However, those days were over, she explained, not just because her body could no longer take it, but because she had been laid off from that job three years ago. Now, she was working at this store, helping people buy socks and hosiery. “I hate this job,” she said, matter-of-factly. I felt badly and said I was sorry. While I did not mean to be ironic, in an already uncomfortable moment, I wished her a Happy 4th of July and exited the store.
I would venture to guess that there are millions of people who wake up every day and head off to a job they cannot stand. If you like what you do, says the proverb, then you will never think of it as work. Unfortunately, for many, that is simply not the case. If work was supposed to be fun, says a friend of mine, then they would call it fun, but they don’t. They call it work.

I have been very fortunate to enjoy what I do and to like going to work. Yes, there are those one or two jobs I had as a teen which I could have done without. (I was young, I needed the money? No. Not that kind of job.) As an adult, however, I have consistently had work which has been intellectually stimulating and personally fulfilling. That is not to say there have been some incredibly challenging days, because there have been. But everything has its challenges. That’s life.

The South Shore Standard is only a couple of months old and yet we have already had our first company barbeque. While at the newspaper I previously called home, we had one holiday party in the years I was there. One time I got a fleece sweatshirt as a holiday gift, but that was where it ended. It was not for lack of trying to organize more frequent get-together but it just never happened. Suffice it to say, that was not the case at the Standard’s barbeque. Invitations went out, food was ordered and we joined Howard in his backyard. Something about it being at his home made it even nicer, almost as if we were actually being welcomed into his family. I could not stay as long as I had wanted to, but I thanked Howard for organizing the event, which he told me he hoped would be annual. Sounds good, in my opinion. Just makes working for the Standard that much sweeter.
I hope my children pick up on certain things about my life, including that I like what I do. Whether it is teaching, writing or hosting a radio show, I enjoy each for different reasons. With so many people looking for any kind of work, fulfilling or not, I appreciate being employed and being happy. Neither do I take lightly, both of which I hope the people around me pick up on.

A close friend of mine is working upstate at a sleep away camp. Her children are campers there, and her 8 year old daughter was recently allowed to pick an elective. Besides all of the regular activities in which each child participates, campers are invited and required to choose from a number of different options as a way to enrich their summer experience. Amongst the opportunities presented, the camp is putting out a newsletter which the campers will produce. Newsletter/Camp Newspaper as an elective was a choice for campers, and the one my friend’s daughter chose.

Slightly surprised at her daughter’s decision, it seemed there were other options which she would have assumed her 8 year old would have preferred. When looking for some kind of clarification, her daughter’s answer was both sweet and telling.
“Well, Miriam works at the newspaper,” she explained, “and she always seems to be having so much fun with it that I thought I would give it a try!”

Smart girl. Maybe I am getting that message out there better than I thought.

MLW
As seen in The South Shore Standard July ’11