When I was little, the very first job I ever wanted to have (besides jet ski instructor, even though I'd never ridden a jet ski and wasn't sure such an occupation existed), was a meter maid. I remember seeing one their little cars parked on the street in downtown Sacramento and thinking that was the coolest ride ever! I didn't want the Batmobile or Barbie's dream convertible. I wanted a metermobile.
SO FREAKING COOL!!!
I thought I would just drive around in my little car all day and say hello to people. I didn't realize that meter maids are probably one of the most hated professions behind IRS agents and referees. As I grew up and learned to seek approval from my fellow man, this career seemed less and less likely. I can't stand being yelled at, or being the bearer of bad news. But I still wanted the little car. That's when I discovered golf carts. I don't play golf, never plan to play golf, and even mini-golf is boring and difficult. But I knew that someday, I'd drive one. I don't know what kind of satisfaction is derived from driving a smaller than normal vehicle. But I drove a go-kart once and it rocked my world. So imagine my delight when I discover that my new place of business owns not one, not two, but THREE golf carts solely for our discretion!!!!
MINE AT LAST!!!!!
And today I was handed the magical key to these babies. Happy holidays, indeed! I haven't learned to drive them yet, but I plan to as soon as I kidnap a co-worker and coerce them to show me. Violently if necessary. Who would have thought that this job I took to pay the bills would turn out to be the fulfillment of a lifelong dream? The people rock, the work is fun and stimulating, and there are treats everywhere ('tis the season after all)! And did I mention the golf carts? Days just fly by, and so far it's been just fine and dandy. I'm only three days in though, so we'll talk in six months and see how much the golf carts affect my contentedness.