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My very first job in the legal sector was as a legal secretary in the estates & trusts department of a large law firm. After many years, I upgraded my employment to a secretary/paralegal position in the legal department of a local hospital. After being downsized out of that job, I found myself working as a paralegal in a small firm, doing both real estate work and estates & trusts work. I worked for that firm for 18 years, during which time the estates & trusts work was delegated to someone else so that I could concentrate on real estate matters. You all were with me when that firm folded and I subsequently took my next job as a real estate paralegal in a high-volume law firm (a/k/a The Job From Hell). I lasted just over a year on that job, and my health suffered dramatically from the stress.
When push came to shove, I knew it was time to stop doing the paralegal thing. I had clawed my way up to a paralegal position, and I had a good reputation in the legal community. But enough was enough. Been there, done that. Proved to myself and everyone else that I could do it. I didn’t need to do it any more.
The game plan, of course, was to take two or three months off to concentrate on household renovations and then to find a simple, part-time job. I truly expected I would wind up working for minimum wage as a store clerk, burger flipper, or call center representative. I was ok with that. A job’s a job. My budget had been cut severely to accommodate a lower salary, and the reduced, less stressful hours would be beneficial to my health.
As the “retirement” period went on, I began to get nervous. At my age, would I be able to find anything? Would I have to go back to full-time just to pay the bills, if I did manage to find someone willing to take on a senior citizen? I figured I would have to accept the very first job that came along, regardless of what it was or what it paid, and regardless of whether it was part-time or full-time.
The curtained area is my little closet.
Now, having bored you all with the recap of my life, let me say that I just completed my first four-day work week at my new firm, and I am very, very pleased with my new job. I have my own small, but private, office (see photo at top of this post) with a window I can open and a door I can close, and I even have my own tiny coat closet (see photo to right). My last job was in a windowless closet, so my work environment has definitely improved.
It’s a two-attorney firm, and there’s only one other staff member besides me. Everyone is very friendly, helpful, and patient. At the end of the week, I decided to make a small commitment by purchasing a desk lamp for my new office – and trust me, that’s a definite indication that I plan to stay. On my last job (the Job From Hell), I knew within only a few days that I had made a mistake – and for the entire year, I did not take anything personal into work, not even a tissue box.
My new job is 9 to 5 – much better than the 7:30 to 5:30 I was working in The Job From Hell (and never managing to get caught up!). Despite the longer drive, the daily stress level has become negligible. There have been no nightmares caused by this job. Ok, it’s only been a week, but from what I’ve seen, I don’t expect the stress level to get cranked up in the future.
Puppy Cody has already adjusted to the fact that no one can come home at lunch time. We make sure she gets extra attention (and exercise) when we do get home in the evening. She seems to understand that her life is no different than that of other dogs with working owners. Even on my day off, she sticks to her sleep-all-day routine and refuses to let me take her out at lunch time, so I think this will all work out.
My working life has come full circle. Once again, I am a secretary doing estates & trusts work, and I like it just fine. I made myself a career, and I excelled at that career, but now it’s time to sit back and let the younger folks deal with the stress and the grief. My current colleagues seem to value me, my work environment is livable, and I can pay my bills. I have one extra day off per week. Life is good!
Oh, and by the way, due to Not CM’s recently reported demise, Teddy Rosalie has adopted ShadowPaws. We’ll see how that works out.
View from Office Window – Teddy Rosalie and ShadowPaws joined me on my first day of work
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Images by Cordelia’s Mom
“How many times in the last week have you felt depressed?”
“How many times in the last week have you wanted to hurt yourself?”
“How many times in the last week have you wanted to hurt someone else?”
(Um, do annoying spouses count?)
Because I’m returning to the work force next week (yay!), I filled up this week with every upcoming doctor’s appointment I could think of, one of which was my annual visit with my primary doctor.
I was so pleased when I was not given the aforementioned questionnaire. (“How many times have you wanted to hurt the person who creates pointless questionnaires?”)
I sat in the waiting room peacefully reading and waiting to be called in for my physical.
Once in the exam room, the nurse told me, “This year, we’re giving you a little memory test.”
Say what? It’s a wonder I even remembered I had an appointment today! And managed to find my way there!
The test consisted of memorizing three words (see title, above) and repeating them back to the nurse. She then indicated I would have to remember those words to the end of the visit.
okaaaay.
So I spent the entire visit repeating those three words to myself over and over. It was very hard to then also answer the other, more normal, questions I was asked: “Any problems?” “Are you getting regular exercise?” (Thanks to Puppy Cody, I didn’t have to lie this year!).
To make a potentially long, boring post, shorter – you’ll all be pleased to know I am very healthy (aside from the ulcerative colitis, which is currently under control). I even lost eight pounds! (Actually, I lost twenty pounds over the last year, but then I retired and began baking again. Someone has to eat all those cookies and cakes!)
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Image by Cordelia’s Mom
Things are coming along nicely. The construction is mostly done – well, we thought we were done, until one of the upstairs light switches began sizzling every time it was turned on. At which point, we checked all the other switches upstairs and discovered the majority of them had burn marks, and the two overhead lights in the bedrooms are at least 60 years old. So now we need the electrician who did the downstairs work to come back and do the upstairs work. Bummer.
Otherwise, we are quite pleased with our new digs. Our main goal in selling our old house was to get away from those loony neighbors, and we accomplished that. Our new neighbors are pretty much what we wanted – nodding hello and otherwise leaving us alone, but I know if we had an emergency, we could go to any one of them for help.
To the members of the Church on the corner: OK, I know services are held early on Sunday mornings, and we knew that moving in. But really, must your parishioners be so happy at that time of the morning, when I’m trying to sleep? What can we do about that?
To the Church Pastor, who lives next door: I can’t begin to tell you how pleased we are to have a normal family next to us, and your wife and kids are lovely. But see above – we do appreciate the fact that you snowblow the sidewalk in front of our house, but really, must you do it so early in the morning? It upsets Puppy Cody, and her barking drives me nuts.
To the family who lives on the other side: Talk about keeping to yourselves! We never see you except when you go in and out of the house – which, of course, is the way we like it. But I did notice when we moved in last summer that there was at least one ball on the border of my yard, and you’re probably not aware that we have an extreme sensitivity to balls coming into our yard (click here). In light of that, please train your little girls to keep all toys on your side of the property line, and should a ball or other toy come into my yard, they are never, ever to come over after it. We’ll throw it back when we damn well feel like it. I really don’t want to have to stand out there screaming, “Get the hell off my lawn!”
To the lady down the street who knows everything about everyone: Every neighborhood needs that one neighbor who watches over (um, spies on) everyone else. I did enjoy our chat wherein you told me the history of every resident on the street, including tidbits about who’s married and who’s not (with or without kids), where everyone works, who drives what vehicle, who has dogs, who has cats, which family has difficult children, etc. You may come gossip about the rest of the neighbors whenever you wish – but I forbid you to talk to the other neighbors about my husband and me. ‘Nuff said.
To the Administrator of the nearby school: Since we don’t have that fence yet, we’ve been bringing Puppy Cody over to your fine facility for evening walks. We do appreciate the signs indicating that pet walking is acceptable so long as the owner cleans up after, and we do that. My only complaint is that you could do a little better job of clearing the sidewalks around the athletic complex. Sure, I understand it’s the dead of winter and you’re not currently holding outdoor events, but it’s been quite difficult climbing over the snowbanks and skating over the ice just so Cody can do her business. I’m sure there are other pet owners who would agree with me. Thank you.
To everyone who drives the main streets outside our little subdivision: You people are all aggressive, inconsiderate jerks, and I’m glad you don’t actually live here. Where are you going that’s so important you need to push everyone else out of the way? Have you never heard of turn signals? It’s that little blinking light on the back edge of the car, and mine is usually blinking on the right because I’m turning onto my street. Trying to run me off the road into the front of the Church is not going to make me turn any faster.
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I love to hear from my readers. You may comment on this post, comment on my Facebook or Twitter pages, or email me at cordeliasmom2012@yahoo.com
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Images by Cordelia’s Mom
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Cordelia's Mom, Still 