Interesting, interesting, bunny hops.
I have to think about it.
I used to like going to work after high school and later (and more difficult transport, university), the rewards a lot for me getting to be around differing people, cramming my mind with the medical stuff around me, and the whole office camaraderie thing. At that time, I knew mostly my aunt and mother.
On work -
I used to like it when I worked for a department, ran a lab, but I was often weary, didn't get a 'helper' for some lengthy time, so I worked my buns off. Still, I liked it. The hardest part was being there at eight, which I pretty much never was except for maybe the first day -- but I made up for that as a workaholic. I didn't have patients in that lab, though I met some long termers.
Later lab work was similar, I was generally forgiven for not being there at five of eight, and learned scads of stuff, left two places to learn more stuff, and finally went to a wrong place, though.. I still learned. But, by then it was killing me not to have a window, and I was playing with art in my spare time
So, at the end of that last employment, I felt trapped, though I'd be ok once I got to the lab. Life was not only med matters but art and love and new home.
And I got out of it - took university extension classes for four years and all new jobs had to do with the new interest, landscape architecture. I didn't know that was my serious interest until I had a class in elements of design. I was turning forty.
Thus I entered my independent contractor years, when very few design places in that period could really pay your way. This one job was a type of internship. My first employment, a type of internship in the new field, was in a primo then landscape architecture firm. I worked 16 hours a week (long drive), at something like $3.30 an hour, helped the secretary file, made coffee - and did large presentation drawings and photo'd work sites, with short commentary.
I was still in school; there were eleven in the firm and nine of us were laid off.
In summary, I was energized, tired, not unhappy.
Something like eight years in a land arch firm - mostly good days, a few scary ones, a few with people at odds, a bunch working into the night, and a lot of fun - and no one expected me to show at 8 am unless with clients or meeting crews to progress review.
I don't remember being unhappy then, but I was getting more interested in my eyes and signed up in a serious eye clinic. Baaaaad news, and I quit driving at night immediately, and cut out twilight driving. Major life change.
Aside from a mix of relief and angst, this was debilitating for me
with work, including possible future jobs in city departments, as I couldn't reasonably do it.
I then worked for myself, partly because I was interested in design for (sorry) ordinary places, always have been. That was satisfying, if not lallapaloosa money making. I did some volunteer design. And one or two major client designs, but got involved with consult with a couple of people, one who became a later partner.
So, then, I was ok. She and I had brains that riffed. I was glad to go to work, and at home glad to be painting or working on projects.
My eyes weren't that different from before, and still aren't, re RP - just that I didn't understand the whole of it before.
The bad news was that however capable, we were having a hard financial time, and it made sense for me to be the one to move (she had family there and much more connection to the community, and I needed to get my house sold.
On the last best years, I'm not sorry for a minute.
Well, except that my business partner liked to clean more than I did. But that was her problemo...
So, looking back, when were my years of hatred for getting to work -
that's easy, chemistry class at 8 a.m.