How I work 4 different jobs without dying
It starts with a lot of coffee and ends with nyquil. In the middle is a lot of exercise, a lot of forced smiles at crappy customers and a lot of deep breaths. With all that comes breathless laughter, some cool friendships, and a deeper appreciation for down-time. But Bash, why do you work 4 jobs? Are you insane? Do you need money?
Let me rewind to this time last year. I had just dropped out of school, I had no money, no clue, and no help. I was working 10 hours a week at a minimum wage job that I hated and was applying anywhere that would take my resume with no luck. A friend and I decided to move in together and share a bedroom in a 2 bedroom house with someone we met the day before we moved in. It was terrible. We slept on the floor for the first month and the person we moved in with had already been living there for a year - with no vacuum. The apartment was carpet. Gross doesn't cover it.
At this job that I hated, I worked hard in the hopes of gaining more hours, and always put on a polite face for customers. All the while, I was making sure not to put my hand under the garbage bags because there might be needles in them, printing and dropping off resumes, and doing my best not to starve. Pb&j became an essential part of my diet and trivial things like parties and who was seeing who quickly faded into the background. I went to work, I applied at jobs, I went home, and I wondered what the hell I was doing and if I was going to make rent or be evicted and kicked onto the street.
Sometime in February, I was helping a customer and we got to talking about babysitting and nannying. She told me she was looking for someone to watch her son a few days a week and we exchanged contact information. The following week I met P, a beautiful angel contained inside a small one and a half year old boy. A few weeks later, still working at this job that I hated, I sprained my ankle at work and had to go see a doctor. I went to the closest place to my apartment, which was still a 15 minute bus ride away. It was a nice day out, not hot but the sun was out which was uncommon for Portland in the spring. I took it as a good sign. I got to the area the doctor's office was in and fell in love. Within the first minute of being there, I knew that I would be coming back. I was early for my appointment so I walked to a coffee shop to sit and wait and write. This was the first time I met Moss.
Have you ever met someone and you just know that they're going to play a bigger role in your future than you can even fathom? That's what it felt like to meet him. It was really meeting Moss that solidified my need to come back, there was a pull that I couldn't ignore. I went to my doctor's appointment, got a diagnosis, and went home. I was told that I wouldn't be able to work for at least 10 days, which really meant two weekends which REALLY meant an entire paycheck for me. When I got home I burst into tears, I couldn't afford to lose a paycheck and I didn't know what I was going to do. I went to sleep hungry hoping that maybe tomorrow would be better.
I woke up to my phone ringing. It was the mom I had met, calling to see if I would be able to watch P, 5 days a week from 9-5. We agreed on an hourly wage that was more than what I was making, and she would pay me at the end of each day. I said yes without hesitating. I quit my job that I hated, and I moved on to hanging out with my (now) favourite kiddo.
Fast forward a few months and I was having a blast getting to watch P everyday, I had been back to that coffee shop more times than I could count and Moss and I were inseparable. I moved out of the crappy apartment into a studio with a Lily I had met while I was in school. Less than two months later we moved into a two-bedroom apartment that was a 5 minute walk from the coffee shop. I had a savings account, a job I loved, and my own space with a roommate I adore. I was happy.
Fast forward to October and I made a spur of the moment decision to take myself to Europe for two weeks to visit a friend I hadn't seen in months. We talked about everything that had happened and everything that was happening and what I wanted for myself and my future now that I was secure. I realised that even though I was in a better more stable place I wasn't quite as happy as I thought. In many aspects of my life I felt as though I was being taken advantage of because of my previous circumstances and that I could be doing more if I wanted, I just had to go for it. I got back from Europe and was thrown back into my life and work and trying to make the best of a harsh winter, and put those thoughts on the back burner. I started working for another family nannying their chatty sprouts one day a week. It was nice to have something that changed my week up a little bit, and I liked the change of pace and the kids.
Skip ahead a few more months to December and P's family decided that they didn't need me to watch him anymore. So now I was back to square one, working less than 10 hours a week with a higher rent and now student loans and bills to pay on top of that. I was freaked and hurt, it felt like being broken up with. After watching P most of the day, every day for almost a year, I was crushed that I wouldn't be able to anymore. The fear of not having enough money to cover my needs came roaring back. My neighbors asked me to housesit while they were gone for Christmas so that made things a little easier but I still wasn't working full time.
January rolled around and with some help from Moss and the love of my amazing customers, I got a job at the coffee shop I had stumbled into months before. Between that and nannying for the sprouts I was still only working two days a weeks and picking up shifts at the coffee shop when I could. I was grateful to the area that I was living in, and all the people that make my day-to-day life bearable. I thought back to the conversation with my friend in Europe and decided that working in the coffee industry brought me a lot of joy - and it was something I was good at.
In March I had been dropping resumes left and right with no luck and dropped one off at another local coffee shop on a whim. They called me about a week later to see if I could interview. Within the next week I had been hired. Another week passed and the sprout's dad got a new job so they asked if I would be able to work a few extra days a week and I said yes. Within a month I was working 70 hours a week, 3 out of the 7 days I was working two jobs a day. But you know what? I LOVE IT.
I love working with coffee, I love working with my sprouts, and getting three paychecks is kind of really awesome. I'm saving more than I'm spending, I'm able to pay more than the monthly requirement for student loans, and I don't worry about if I'm going to be homeless or if I'm going to eat dinner. I love the people I get to see every day, I love my customers, my co workers, the community and family I have built for myself. The best part is that I feel like I'm moving and working towards something.
Through my now fourth job, I have big big future plans and am surrounded with like minded people who bleed coffee and fun and family. My schedule seems crazy to just about everyone but I love that though there's a sense of regularity, every day is different and I don't feel locked in or bored. Each day brings a new challenge, a new connection, a new experience. I love the variability, I love the security, and I love that I can finally feel like I fit somewhere.
Cheers,
B
