Today was the first day of the Spawn’s first paying gig, working at the college library. It’s a bit of a late start for a summer job, but we had to wait for the new fiscal year to get rolling, and she expects the gig to continue into the semester — given that she finished her freshman year with an extremely high GPA, she’ll likely be able to afford the few hours a week, and it’ll help her pay her sorority fees as well.
She spent part of yesterday worrying about what to wear, because she wasn’t precisely sure what her duties were going to be. I pointed out that since she’s a student worker, everyone would probably just be glad that she was clothed at all, but Mrs. M was more helpful, and the crisis was averted.
I got back from my walk this morning in time to see her off for her arduous 5-minute trek to the library, and she made it home about four hours later. “So how’d it go?”
“Not bad,” she said. Her job seems to involve cataloging/inventory in the college’s Special Collections section — well, really, the room. Apparently, she spent the day checking items off the library’s master call list and placing them in proper LoC order — a task that she reports may wind up being Herculean, if not Sisyphean. However, in the process, she says she found some pretty cool items. (She reported this to me as we wandered back onto campus so that she could provide proof of citizenship to our HR people.)
“I found one book that dates to the 1800s,” she said. “It’s a little biography of Martin Luther’s wife, and it was a gift from some guy to his wife. I thought it was sweet. But I guess they’re both dead now,” she added after a pause. I agreed that was how time typically works, and pointed out that’s probably how the library got the book in the first place.
She also informed me that only she and the library’s director (her boss) have access to the room, and that she basically spent her shift locked in the room — which has its advantages, because the climate control keeps things comfy. She said it was cool to start at that level of trust, but added that being my kid may have helped. I hope so.
She also reports that she said hi to the Dean as he passed through, and that our director of tutoring is already hoping she can steal the Spawn away once the school year starts. (The Spawn hopes not: “If I tutor, I’ll have to talk to people.”) She also asked the Spawn if she reads as quickly as I do. (The answer is no, but she’s still a very fast reader.) Having taken care of her HR business, we went for celebratory sno-cones, and she said she thinks she’s going to like the job. Her next shift is tomorrow.
Of course, she also asked, “How much of my paycheck will go for taxes?” I told her she’d probably get it all back this year, except for Social Security. “Why do I have to pay that?” she asked. “It’s not like it’ll be there when I’m old.” And another conservative is formed.
Professor Mondo 