The Hard Way

Some of us—probably a lot of us—end up learning basic life lessons the hard way. At least some of them.

Fer instance, I should’ve taken a typing class in high school. This was decades before the advent of personal computers and typing becoming as natural as breathing. In the mid-70s, the only reason to learn how to type, to my inexperienced, shortsighted bean, was to become a secretary. BORING and way too limiting. Remember, I was young, did NOT want to be pigeonholed in a traditionally girls-only job and was most def not thinking ahead.

By the time I moved to Boston (at the age of 22) to start my big, new, adult life, I had, essentially, no concrete job skills. I’d been a carny, modeled for art classes at the local college, worked at a movie theater and sold fireworks on street corners in Houston (what Texas based carnies did in winter after the season ended).

My majors in college had been music and art. I hadn’t planned on what I’d do to earn post-college money to pay the rent. I know, not terribly bright of me. Before leaving campus for the last time, I went to a job center to investigate what gigs might be open to someone with my education, interests and limited experience. The woman at the desk laughed in my face, saying that I’d waited until too late to start exploring my options (DUH no kidding?!). She didn’t offer any sort of assistance, just disdainfully laughed—I booked.

I had enough dough saved so I could move to Boston and  get a place to live until my financial feet were under me. I had to get work fast though. There was no backup from my folks—all their money went towards supporting and bailing out two of my troubled siblings. I was on my own.

 My first adult jobs? Waitressing the breakfast shift at a Friendly’s, modeling for art classes at local colleges, working the grill and cashiering at a fast-food joint, making copies. I held three and four jobs at a time in order to make the rent. I ate sunflower seed butter (peanut butter was too expensive), ramen noodles and chicken wings (this was eons before wings became a thing. In 1980 they were just the cheapest protein there was). For entertainment, I borrowed books from the library. I walked or took the trolley everywhere. In fact, I didn’t have a car (an extremely old and unattractive Mustang) until I was in my 40s.

My long road to achieving a health insurance providing full time job could’ve been shortened had I taken that high school typing class or a computer programming course or two in college.

It was the copy job that, eventually, got me into offset printing which led to training/teaching and, later, graphic design. Good, fun if not mega-bucks paying positions.

Yep, I learned how to support myself the hard way. I could’ve made better choices but, with no one advising me or giving me cash infusions, I did the best I could. It was far from easy but I made shit work.

My advice to folks just entering adulthood? Be pragmatic. Prioritize your needs and be realistic about what those needs are. Unless you come from money and generous parents, you’re going to have to learn some boring skills in order to get the bills paid. Failing that, you’ll be low level waitressing, working the register at McDonald’s or being a greeter at Walmart. There’s no shame in that AT ALL but there are less onerous ways to pay the bills.