The types of jobs/work we have had since our younger years, and including our younger years.

[jujube]

My first job was in a sleazy loan company, which my dad made me quit after we were robbed.
Various jobs after that, very few memorable.
I sold advertising for a major metropolitan newspaper for six years. Excellent money, miserable job.
I worked for my sister for four years. It's hard working for relatives.
I worked for a non-profit fund-raising concern for six years; I was the director for the last two. I almost had a nervous breakdown. I found out I didn't like being a boss. I'm a follower, not a leader.
I worked as the Executive Assistant to a Vice President of a hospital system for six years, and then followed her to her next job and the next one after that. That took up another five years.
I worked for a friend in her home-based business on and off.
Then I worked for a former boss as a contract employee until his company was bought by another firm and he was eased out. I then worked for that company for another couple of years until I retired.

I finally found out what I was good at.....retirement.

 

[Supernatural]

My very first type of jobs was, surprisingly, learning how to care for a baker's dozen of female cat and her 12 kittens. The grooming, feeding, brushing short and long hair. Tending the litter box (which back then was a special sand Papa got from a governmental farm. It helped me learn how to care for babies later on in life. Thanks Dad!

Mother sold Avon Cosmetics in the 60s. I was in charge of getting the children to fall in love with the "Pretty Peach" kids line of products.

Around the same timeframe, Papa began telling me all sorts of amazing stories. Yes, he was the best storytelling Dad. Thanks to his encouraging words, I began writing these stories and I was launched into my own world as a storyteller. Which eventually with school's extra activities, in the 90s I took the plunge and fulfilled a dream of writing my very first novel series.

One year during the fair, Mother had fallen in love with a miniature rocking chair. As I was just the right age, the following year, I found a job engraving cheap jewellery aka personalised with the people's name. Made enough cash to buy said miniature rocking chair. Mother was very happy. Bitchy sibling threw it in the fireplace after Mother died. It was supposed to come back to me. Sniff!

The last two years of secondary, I wanted to acquire experience, so I got the seasonal work for Christmas Rush at Post Office. Simple job really, just sorting mail into slots the following year, organising the packages on the running line. The latter meant that quite a few packages had to be repackaged and addressed anew. Others put aside by the inspector. Those were scary, imagine hearing a ticking noise and not knowing if it was a clock or a bomb. Nail bitting year that was.

Then a disaster happened after two summer jobs (one in accounting at a wedding photographer, the other as a filling clerk to reorganise by alphabetical, numerical and categorised), I had appointment at bank as accounting clerk.

Upon arriving close to the door, a strange feeling overcame me. Glancing through the front doors, realised a robbery was in progress. They'd just arrived ahead of me, as I'm running away, the bank alarm rang and from the back of the bus, I saw police cars arriving. I learned later on that they'd been caught.

Meanwhile, I'd stop and phone the bank and told them that I was withdrawing my candidacy for the job they'd offered. I got a job as a word processing operator with the government and became a civil servant. Never looked back!

Got through the ranks and had to retire due to health problems. I would have loved to offer my expertise again but it never happened and I'm not getting into that. Sorry!

 

[jimintoronto]

For two years, at age 20, I worked weekends for a body removal company here in Toronto. On duty from Friday at 6 PM, to Monday morning at 6 AM. The Boss and I had a black Dodge station wagon with curtains on the rear windows, and a standard Styriker gurney in the back. We were under contract to several small funeral homes, who didn't want to have their own people work on the weekend. I was paid 5 dollars per hour on stand by, and 30 dollars if we went out on a call. Most weekends we would do 3 or 4 pickups in the city. Most of the calls were to a home or a nursing facility. Go pick up the deceased person, and take them to one of the funeral homes. A quiet job, mostly at night. Once in a while I got to do an "out of town run " to someplace outside of the city, to a small town funeral parlour. That paid me $60, and mileage. The Ontario Government had some such runs, of persons who had not been claimed for 90 days at the Coroner's building cold room. These went to the various University medical schools to be used as autopsy bodies. They were kept in pools filled with formaldehyde . Those runs were scheduled at night on Sunday, so I would arrive early on Monday morning, when the staff came in to work. It was a interesting job, with lots of things to learn.
JImB.