This week is the one year anniversary of me getting my first “real” job since graduating from graduate school. I approach this momentous occasion with mixed emotions.
The happy emotions are that I am no longer a “probationary” employee. Being on “probation” just makes you feel crappy, you know? You haven't done anything wrong except for being new, but you're on probation like a criminal. Now that I'm not on probation I am 10 times harder to fire. Before they could've just said, “Get out of here!” but now they have to, like, document my mischief and misdeeds, write me up a bunch of times and hold the obligatory overlong bureaucratic meeting before they can even dream of canning me. My how the tables have turned. These days I just strut around the office all cocky, knock things out of peoples hands and say, “Try and fire me now, punk!” My boss isn't thrilled, but what can he do?
My job is a good job but still a job. I like what I do, but it's not like I get all excited on Sunday night and think, “Alright! I get to go to work in the morning!” If you get paid to do something, does it automatically become un-fun? I think so. If I got paid to eat Ben & Jerry's and watch Battlestar Galactica on DVD for 40 hours a week plus health and dental, would it cease to be fun? I don't know, but I'm willing to find out. If anyone knows an ice-cream-eating-DVD-watching place that is hiring please let me know and I will get them my resumé.
The sad emotions are that I am getting older. My 10-year high school reunion is coming up next month and I am still not planning on going. My wife wants to go because she thinks it will be hilarious to talk to my old high school friends about what a dork I was in high school. I was toying with the idea but it turns out that it costs $50 per person to go. I didn't want to go when I thought it was free and I am certainly not going to go if it costs money. I am not paying money to remember high school.
Also, my wife keeps finding new gray hairs for me. I don't think they really are coming out of my head. I say she takes one of her gray hairs (which are fewer than mine, but longer) and cuts it up into sections and then plants them on me.
That's not realistic because my wife is sweet and wouldn't do anything like that, but when your vanity is at stake you'll make up any excuse.