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Job Number Five Student Health Center

Though I was happy to leave my deli / convenience store job, I was saddened by the sudden lack of spending money, and I think my parents were starting to consider me too old to have an allowance. So during my second year at college, when I heard that the health center on my campus was hiring a receptionist, I filled out an application, and I got a call a day later.

This was the easiest interview I ever had. I was given a tour of the offices, patient rooms and waiting room. Then they asked if I was still interested in the job. That was it. I love interviews like that. Simple and to the point. I started working at the student health center that week.

The worst part of that job was dealing with sick people. Sick people are generally not amicable, not cooperative (“What do you mean I have to have health insurance?”), and not bathed… Regardless, I enjoyed the job and I liked the people I had to work with. Well, everyone except for my boss whose favorite film seemed to be Jennifer Aniston’s hit, “Picture Perfect,” which she played in the waiting room almost daily. (She could have been best friends with my first college roommate who watched “Clueless” every single day.) My boss ended up leaving and the woman who replaced her was much more “normal” in my opinion (for what my opinion’s worth. As you may have been able to tell by now, I’m not quite “normal” myself, whatever that means).

There is one type of girl with which I don’t get along, and she is nearly every girl I meet – the girl who always has her hair and makeup done perfectly, the girl who pores over every new fashion magazine, the girl who wears too much jewelry and far too much perfume. You know, the “girly girl.” I can’t fault girls for being girls, but we just don’t get along. Maybe I have too much testosterone and not enough estrogen, but I’ve always been more of a tomboy.

I got along well with the one other student receptionist who loved horror movies, and we would gush over the one British exchange student who bleached his hair and wore eyeliner. It was a fun time. My employers never complained about me, and I got along with everyone, at least on a superficial level. I never called off work, and volunteered to cover weekends when no one else wanted to work.

I was sad when I decided to transfer to another school that I’d have to leave my receptionist job. I enjoyed all the mundane tasks like filing, data entry and typing. I didn’t even mind answering the telephone. I felt like I was good at the job, and I think it fueled my constant quest for an office job. I’m always looking for that job where I’m comfortable with the assigned tasks and genuinely like the people that I work with.