Whistle While You Work

I love work. Not the 'scrub the bathtub' kind of work, but the fact that someone would actually 'hire me' kind of work. What? You want me to hang around you eight hours a day and you'll even pay me for it? What a concept.

I usually pick my employment based on location (if I can't walk to it when my car is on the fritz, I'm not doing it), flexibility (can I rush out and pick up Alice-Grace from preschool when Nigel forgets?), and funny stories that may come out of it.

My job with the best stories is when I worked at a veterinary hospital in Los Angeles. Somehow I got elected to be in charge of the freezer full of dead dogs. I was always a little worried when the guy from the pet cemetery came to pick up Fluffy and he was decked out in full bio-hazard gear and I was digging through a pile of deceased canines with bare hands. What did he know what I didn't?

We also had a lot of movie stars come in with their pets. The most humorous was when Lou Ferrigno came in and my boss went on and on about how familiar he looked and asked him if he was a doctor at another clinic. What? How can you possibly confuse the Incredible Hulk for a veterinarian?

Of course, there's been some jobs I've hated and some jobs where they've hated me, but I'm always amazed when someone reaches across a desk, shakes my hand and says, "Welcome to the company."

If only my own family wanted me that much.