Thank Goodness It’s Not Me

I got a knock on my door today. Not something out of the ordinary by any means.  Except this person wasn’t from Austin. Or Texas. Or even the United States.

She (who’s name I can still not pronounce) was from Estonia. The country I thought they made up for the movie Encino Man. Seriously.  Because that country did NOT exist when I took geography class in 7th grade.

And why was this poor girl knocking on doors in the heat of the Texas summer so far from home.

Southwestern Publishing. My old employer.

For those that don’t know or recall, Southwestern recruits college kids, gives them a week of sales school in Nashville, then sends them off to a sales territory, usually with no place to live (you knock on doors to find a place), and tells you to work Monday through Saturday (from about 7:30 AM until 9 or 10 PM), have sales meetings on Sunday, and oh by the way, you’re only going to get paid straight commission.

Yes, and somehow they get people crazy enough to think this is a GOOD idea to do for 12 weeks during their summer vacation.

I got suckered in. Twice. For two summers I worked 84 hours a week.

Thank goodness it’s not me anymore.

Estonia (as she shall be called) brought all those buried memories back. The heat.  The exhaustion. The frustration.  The sage brush that you swear you see roll by at 2 PM on a weekday when NOBODY ON THE PLANET is home!

Yeah.  Been there. Done that.

DONE with that.

*Oh, and Kyra, who Dave put down at 7:30 tonight  (usually her bedtime is after 9) is now awake and mad.

Shocker.

This is going to be a fun night.

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About Kelly K @ Dances with Chaos

Kelly K has learned the five steps to surviving of motherhood: 1) Don't get mad. Grab your camera. 2) Take a photograph. 3) Blog about it. 4) Laugh. 5) Repeat. She shares these tales at Dances with Chaos in order to preserve what tiny amount of sanity remains. You can also find her on her sister blog, Writing with Chaos (www.writingwithchaos.com) sharing memoir and engaging in her true love: fiction writing. It's cheaper than therapy.
This entry was posted in flash to the past, sleep deprivation and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Thank Goodness It’s Not Me

  1. Kerry says:

    Yeah, she was at my house a few weeks ago.

  2. Kelly K says:

    Actually, it was probably her roommate. There are a large group from Estonia, each with a different territory. My gal's is crappy, but her roomy has Cedar Park. Hers ends way before Avery Ranch.Did you but anything? It's good stuff. 🙂

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