Trials and Tributions Ending?

I’ve struggled with the decision to write about my last two positions for the past 3 months because at least one of my audience still work there. The reason I post today? I’ve finally come to peace with the realization that they have already written their ending to my story. The rub? It may be completely different scenes than the ones I experienced. So here goes nothing…..

The Advertisement

I found the position for Document Production Specialist nestled in a multitude of job emails. I was flabbergasted; this sort of position is pretty specialized, and you don’t see them advertised much. It was for a large environmental engineering firm, a field I was desperately trying to get back to. I remember reading the job description off my phone to Kathi, who was absolutely supportive in her assertions that I apply immediately – now- and wait for the call. “You know you’re qualified for it. When they read your résumé, they’ll know it, too. Just do it. Don’t think about it; act on it.” (Indeed, Kathi had worked with them in Canada and enjoyed her time there immensely, which she sensed was a good omen.)

Of course, as fate would have it, my cell got turned off later that day (it was 3 days late) - thankfully, after I applied online. As a rule, I never checked my email at the shelter, but once I realized my phone was off for non-payment, I started having to check it there daily. Just 3 days later, I got an email; they had tried multiple times to call, but weren’t able to leave voicemails. The email directed me to call to set up an interview. I could not believe my good fortune. After I returned the call and the interview date was arranged, I went straightaway to tell Kathi – she was such a cheerleader and great friend to me.

The Interview

The shelter helped to bolster my confidence which I think reflected well on my recent illustriously hideous job history. As someone who had 6-, 7-, and 3‑year positions on my résumé, these little temporary positions – well, they weren’t easy on the eyes. I was brutally honest to interviewer Sharon and to Faith, an over-40 woman that I bonded with over shared 80s culture and a who’s who of the local environmental personalities we’d both worked with. In fact, I might have even teared up a bit, recalling the horror of the last few months of my life. I remember mentioning that I was looking forward to having insurance again, which took them a bit off-guard, I think.

I distinctly remember feeling “this is what it’s *supposed to* feel like in an interview” as everything I said was natural and unforced, honest, sometimes achingly close to home. I remember relaying how close I was to finishing school – at that point, I was just 5 classes shy of my Bachelors of Science in Communication. I remember that it just felt right. It’s an elusive feeling – one I’ve felt only a handful of times before and since – but difficult to describe. I knew I was hitting it out of the park, a home run. Further proof of how well I was doing was Sharon and Faith taking me into Sharon’s office and Sharon printing out the benefits package. Surely, they wouldn’t have taken the time or effort to show me that if I wasn’t doing well, right?!

I went back to the shelter and told Kathi how it had gone. She was in all-out cheering mode – relaying her positive experiences with the firm. I felt the timing of the job offer couldn’t have been more fortuitous – just over a week left of my short-term position, set to end December 31^st. Then came the wait. I knew it wouldn’t happen immediately – logistically, it was December and they were a large firm. Theoretically, I understood. But inside I was jello, doubting myself and my “feelings” for the next 4 days.

On the 5^th day, Faith called and asked to meet me to give me the paperwork for drug testing. Legally, she couldn’t say anything about whether or not I had the position until I had been drug tested. So I took the afternoon off and immediately tested. The testing facility assured me that the results would be back to the employer within 24 hours.

The very next day – 24 hours to the dot – Sharon called me to extend the job offer. The icing on the cake was the hourly rate – it would start me very close to the money I had made at my longest gig, Water & Air. After I accepted, Sharon said she would print out an offer letter which I would be expected to sign my first day of work, December 30^th. After the call ended, I did the Cabbage Patch dance at my desk in the Adoption Center, drawing raised eyebrows from browsing adopters. Kathi and Janet took me to dinner that night and we celebrated at Applebee’s.

This day last year – this exact date, actually! – I started working there. I was very excited because it was not only back in my realm of comfort – environmental engineering -– it was something I had found on my own, outside of the temporary world. It was a real position, listed as temp- to perm-, and I was going for it. The trials and tribulations of the past 8 months were coming to an end. 

O wise woman, what say you?

At the shelter, Janet was one of three customer service reps. These three women tirelessly answered phones and assisted walk-in citizens with pet-related concerns. These concerns ranged from finding, capturing, and bringing in stray dogs and cats to tagging adopted shelter animals to listening to complaints from angry ticketed pet owners. The shelter's "front line," they receive the lion's share of citizen contact. 

Janet was the newest and friendliest of the three. A consummate professional, Janet answered questions, assisted citizens in filling out pet adoption papers, and was a definite people person. Always with a smile, a good attitude, and a kind word, she was the one people waited to speak with. If she didn't know the answer, she would spend the extra time to find out.

As I often passed through the lobby from Kathi's desk back to my desk at the Adoption Center, I came to recognize her voice, hear the compassion in her answers, and respect the "good vibes" she gave off.  As I've mentioned in previous postings, I'm generally the sort of person to observe first before uttering a word. My cautious nature went out the window last year, however, and I found myself taking time out between trips chatting up Janet when she was free.

Janet was a happy person. That is not to say that she wasn't dealing with her own problems; she was. The shelter paid beans compared to what she had made in her previous career - but she enjoyed the animals, the atmosphere, and the customers. Her extraordinary spirit, good nature, and positive outlook was a ray of sunshine. In short, she made you feel comfortable; I found myself sharing my sob story with her, something I hadn't shared with anyone other than Kathi. And funny! Janet was a hoot - always with a funny anecdote or a sly grin, she made you feel as if she was your own personal comedianne! I kept telling her she ought to do stand-up - to which she responded that the pay wasn't as good as what the shelter paid us. ((wink wink))

I rarely left the shelter for lunch due to lack of funds, preferring instead to eat leftovers at my desk. However, Janet went out of her way to extend invitations to come back to her home with her for lunch. She lived close by the shelter and ate with her three doggies every day. So I brought my leftovers to Janet's home and we "talked shop" about the shelter and some of the personalities we dealt with on a daily basis.

In fact, it was during one of those lunches that she mentioned CONNECT, a sort-of job placement meeting where unemployed people met, discussed placement strategies, compared notes, improved their resumes, and networked with others. At Janet's prodding, I went to the next meeting; networked; had my picture taken; and subsequently interviewed at my current place of employ. (Of course, Kathi had a hand in that decision, too, as I've previously mentioned, but it was Kathi *and* Janet that got me through those dark months last year.)

Janet, if you're reading this, I hope you know this; you have touched my heart and I love you, girl!

Pay It Forward

  

Kathi was the most no-holds-barred, tell-it-like-it-is, supportive, grounded friend and supervisor I've ever had.

That first day, she started me off with a simple assignment. She had pulled old files from their active filing cabinet and put them into a box. My assignment was to write down all the files, alphabetize them, and print her out a list so she could put a description on the outside of the box.

She didn't have room for me to sit at her desk with her, but there was an open desk in the Adoption Center, so she set me up there, making sure I had a username, password, and a working computer. Believe it or not, the computer part took almost half a day, as there was only one computer guy assigned to the shelter and he was busy with other folks. ; )

In the meantime, I had someplace to park my rear and so I meticulously combed through the box, making sure I missed nothing. When I was done, as I had been trained to do in the accounting field, I went back and checked again, finding a few things I had missed. So much better for me to find my mistakes than for someone else!

The next day, the computer was up and running, so I was able to bang out my list pretty quickly. When I brought it to her, she said, "Wow, you're fast! Lemme just doublecheck some of your entries..." Kathi then proceeded to check every single item on the list. That was just her years of accounting background kicking in; doublecheck, then triplecheck *everything*. I settled in to my new digs while she was busy. After about a half hour, she turned to me and said, incredulously, "You didn't miss anything."

"Yeah, okay," I stammered, not really sure what the proper etiquette was here, and continued, "....so what do we do next?" (Where's Billy Talley when you need him?!)

Now she turned to me - and looked at me - really looked at me. "Lou said I was getting you cheap. Now what is it you did before?"

So I gave her a brief synopsis of my work history, ending with the fact that I desperately needed a job so I had taken far less than I was accustomed to.

Some of the confusion on her face cleared up. "Oh, so you're a word processor. *That's* why you were so fast! I was a little concerned at your speed." Then she laughed, "It also seemed strange to me that you weren't at all taken aback by me checking you. With the accounting in your background, you're accustomed to it, aren't you? You probably checked over it before you gave it to me, right?"

I nodded, "Yes, ma'am. Three times. Caught stuff every time." I smiled back at her and said, "But I might have missed something."

"Great! I appreciate that. I'm doing so much, going so fast that I appreciate the fact that you've done some of the legwork for me. I hope you understand that I *have* to check. It's just the nature of the beast." I did understand and I told her so.

She gave me another one of those long looks and said, "I think you're the best temp I've ever had. I'm gonna have to pimp you out!"

Wow - again, I wasn't sure what to say, so I just smiled awkwardly, looked away, blushed, and said, "Good deal."

And that was Kathi - sharp, on it, always making sure she had good information before she made any decisions. All delivered with a sly glance, a glimmer of humor in her eye, and with a wry sense of humor. It was a good life lesson.

______________

Simple assignments gave way to more complex ones, as she tested my skills and we got to know each other. I never assumed to know; I always had questions. In my experience, asking questions *before* you did the project was much better than finding out you did it wrong and having to do it over again, this time the right way. (That was a lesson I had found out early in my career.)

We began to become friends, sharing current and past history. Kathi really seemed to take an interest in me; I was flattered. I think that the way my year had gone was trampling me down, softly killing my spirit. I began to expect the next kick that life was going to deal me. I had begun to feel like I had fallen into a rabbit hole that was just neverending. I was in a no-man's land; everything I had known about myself I was questioning. It was a scary place for me, mentally. Financially, too - for sure. But it was the mental part I think that had worn me down. If I didn't really have *mad skills*, then what had I been doing for 15 years? It was a maddening set of questions that rattled around in my brain like pebbles in an empty bottle.

A painfully shy introvert, I was normally so politely reserved that people had difficulty reading me. Last year's experience changed that; I was being yanked out of my shell - driven by the need to express the anger, sadness, and daily disappointments that had become my life.

Kathi reminded me, in no uncertain terms, that I was a good worker, that I did have skills, that I was fast and accurate, and that I was quickly becoming a right hand to her. I think that she could see how much I was hurting inside, how the questions roiled inside my brain, and even, I think, to see my desperation. She pressed me for details; offered suggestions; and generally, was a shoulder to cry on.

Before I knew it, October was over, and Thanksgiving was quickly gaining on me. Trying to keep up with $300 power bills, groceries, gas for my exceedingly comfortable, but wretchedly gas-guzzling SUV, was killing me, financially. All I can say is *thank God* I got paid weekly at the temporary agency. When I paid all I could, at least I only had to be broke for another 6 days. (wry LOL)

I was rapidly going through my stash of canned goods and frozen veges/meats from Sams Club. I started to worry that not only would I *not* be able to provide Mom and I a comfortable Thanksgiving dinner - I might not be able to keep us in food the rest of the month. I worried; I had Excel spreadsheets full of "what-if" calculations that I regularly updated between tasks.

The week before Thanksgiving, Kathi asked me what I was doing for the holiday. All the stress, worry, anger, and frustration pushed through my wall of introvert and I broke down in tears. I laid it all on the line, snuffling loudly and trying desperately to hide my flame-red eyes and streaked mascara, knowing all too well that tomorrow they would be swollen and puffy all day long.

Kathi suggested a food bank; I shared my story of the peanut butter, packets of oatmeal, and canned vegetable and meat. She was floored; indeed, she started to get mad *for me*! "Well, what the hell?!" I told her I had applied for food stamps and been denied (my mother made too much retirement income). I told her I had applied for electric bill assistance with the same result - between my mother's and my (lack of) income, we made too much to qualify for any assistance. It was a sad state, but I had left no stone unturned. The best thing I had found was a series of coupon websites - SavingsStar, Coupons, and Ziplist, just to name a few. There I could find coupons and/or deals, pick which grocery store I would be going to, and *sometimes* double the coupon.

Two days before Thanksgiving, Kathi presented me with a personalized card with an "owl turkey" she had hand drawn for me. (Kathi was an accomplished photographer and artist in her spare time and ran a website selling said goodies.) Inside her beautiful card was $50 cash and a Visa gift card preloaded with $50. Again, the tears came, but this time it was with immense gratitude. She told me that she had told a few people (and saw the look of horror that came over my face) and that this was the result of those few people wanting Mom and I to be able to enjoy our Thanksgiving. Not entirely sure what to say, I just said thank you – *a bunch* – and asked her how I could ever repay her kindness. Her response? “Just pay it forward.”

I went to Winn Dixie (where I could use the most coupons) and came out with a bounty of food, not just for Thanksgiving. Indeed, I was so overwhelmed that I laid all of it out on top of my freezer, took pictures, and posted to Facebook, with a post thanking Kathi and all the people at the shelter who had contributed. All that is pictured here came to $92, which left me a few dollars for gas. 

The following day, Kathi came in and told me she had a gift for me, but that she wanted to wait until after work to give it to me. I told her no, she had been too gracious, I couldn't possibly accept anything else from her. She brushed me aside and said not to make a big deal of it, but that I would enjoy it.

After work, she pulled out two full grocery totes of canned goods - goods she had culled from her own pantry - to help ease my worry. Even as I write this I am crying. What a wonderful human being! Words alone cannot express how blessed I am to have found such a person....

______________

True to her word, Kathi did, indeed, pimp me out.

As I caught her up on all her invoices, I began assisting the front desk in entering backdated tag information, as well as assisting the vets in entering medical records into the proprietary software the shelter used.

When I had time, I also assisted Susan in the Adoption Center, occasionally running background information on potential adopters but mostly providing people with general information as they wandered around the shelter.

My work with Kathi restored my faith in not only myself, but in all of humanity. Good people do exist.