First off, at my bug packing job, I came across a fish that I needed to ship to Ohio. The point is to have the fish alive when it gets to Ohio, so we try to make sure that our bugs/fish don't die due to temperature conditions. We have a list of all the stuff we ship, and the temperatures they can survive in. If it appears the state we are sending it to will be to cold, we might put a heat pack in the box, or if the weather will be too warm, we put an ice pack. Anyway, I couldn't find this type of fish on our list. I had no idea what temperatures were ideal. So, I ask the guy standing next to me. I hold up my fish bag.
"Hey, I can't find the temperatures for this fish,"
He looks at me.
He looks at the bag.
He says, "That's because it's not a fish,"
I look at the bag. (Sure looks like a fish...)
He continues, "That's an invert,"
and there it was, on the list, "invert."
Moral of the story?
Sometimes when you think it is a fish, you are wrong.
While I enjoy my bug packing job, my last day is tomorrow, and I knew I needed to find something else. Thankfully, I found a condom packing job. I learned that a doctor's office needed help scanning files, and I was ready and willing to scan my little life away. I show up last week, and no one there knew how to scan, or what to scan, so I couldn't do any scanning. Instead of showing me the scanner (and the directions that were above the scanner) they put me to work in another fashion. She told me that I needed to open up all the boxes of condoms, and put two condoms of each kind into a brown lunch bag and roll it up and tape it. They call these "Condom Bags."
There are ten different kinds of condoms, and each box has 1,000 condoms in it. ONE THOUSAND. I have been at this job for about 6 hours, and I have made roughly 250 condom bags. I feel like I will be making condom bags forever.
Naturally I told my parents all about this job.
It's a funny job.
My father thinks it is particularly funny.
Tonight at dinner he turns to his mother and says, "Has Myriah told you about her other job?"
and Grandma says, "WHAT JOB?! Her bug job?!"
and I say to my father, "No... and I'm not planning on it."
Dad plows ahead anyway. There was no way I was going to tell my grandma about my condom packing job. First off, I would have to yell all about it, and second, that makes me uncomfortable.
Anyway, Grandma loved it. Dad told her, and she thought it was simply wild. I couldn't handle it.
Grandma said, "This must be a free clinic you work at. The doctor, what does he do with the condoms? Does he just give them out?" I said, "There aren't any male doctors in that office," and she says, "Oh, they are all women, huh? Well that makes more sense, them giving out condoms."