Rosemarie D'Amico

[This is an entry in my project to write something every day in the 100 days before my retirement, reflecting on my career and life]

95 Days (or 12 more working Mondays) to go – with “Enthusiasm!”

May 28, 2018

I have been working full-time, without a break in employment or a regular pay cheque, for 45 years. (For clarification, I did take time off for the birth of three children, and it was while I was on maternity leave with my third child that I was actually out of a job, the only time I was officially unemployed in 45 years — but that’s the subject of another story.)

[This is an entry in my project to write something every day in the 100 days before my retirement, reflecting on my career and life]

I used this original entry for a non-fiction writing workshop I took at Carleton and this appears elsewhere on my website in a slightly different form.

2,304 hours (96 Days) Remaining
May 27, 2018

When we first start out looking for full-time employment, a resume setting out our experience is a must. That first “real” resume is usually thin in terms of experience (and especially relevant experience), and as an employer who has responsibility for hiring, I smile widely at some of the jobs listed under that ubiquitous heading on everyone’s resume: “Previous Experience.”  My first resumes included ‘Organizing Birthday Parties,’ ‘Paper Route,’ and ‘Snack Bar Attendant at Cinema.’

[This is an entry in my project to write something every day in the 100 days before my retirement, reflecting on my career and life]

97 Days and I’m not counting down yet…
May 26, 2018

Today is a Saturday and I’m imagining that once I’m retired, all days will seem like Saturdays.  Most people think of retirement as one continuous weekend and maybe in a sense, that’s what I’ve got to look forward to: entire days and weeks and months that are mine, all mine. No employer to report to every weekday morning and no young children needing my attention and care.

For the first couple years of my retirement I will be going to Carleton University to expand my knowledge and have some fun.  Not fun in the sense of going to the pub on Thursdays and getting smashed (although, who knows, there are going to be a lot of “firsts” on my retirement-horizon, and getting drunk may be one of them). Fun for me right now is the thirst-quenching satisfaction of sitting in a classroom or lecture theatre, listening to a professor.  And taking notes, and studying for tests, and writing essays, and doing research, and getting lost in the tunnels and MacOdrum Library at Carleton.  This may sound like a job to some, but not to me.

When I went to public and high school, I was an average or below average student, who never tried very hard on the academic side of things.  The social aspects of school are what attracted me and most days, I was the first to arrive at school and the last to leave. I would be at the door, greeting people as they arrived.  By the second month of grade nine in my first year of high school at Sir John A. MacDonald H.S. in Ottawa, I knew every teacher and student by name.  (There were 1,200 students.)  People have always fascinated me and I think high school is where I learned to be a people-watcher and a student of human behaviour.  Such fun.

But now I’m much less social and much more interested in the academics.  I started taking courses last September and went to Carleton every Tuesday and Thursday after work to take two courses. They were hard but I learned so much and was just as excited as an 18-year old, first year student when I got my final marks (yes, I passed both).

What will September bring when I am going full-time and have a full course load? Somehow, I think my weekends will be spent doing homework!

[This is an entry in my project to write something every day in the 100 days before my retirement, reflecting on my career and life]

99 Days to Go

May 24, 2018

Today’s entry of “99 days” naturally reminds me of the silly song we used to sing in Brownies and Girl Guides – 99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall.  And now I’m thinking about how inappropriate it was to teach that song to an 8-year old.  Signs of the times, non? But this meaningless song has me thinking about my time with the Girl Guides of Canada movement and how the skills I was taught at a young age have stayed with me and served me well throughout my working career.

For background, I enrolled in Brownies at 8 years old and was with the Girl Guides of Canada in one form or another for the next 35 years.  I was a Brownie, a Guide, and a Ranger, and then became a Leader once my daughters joined.  (As a Brownie Leader the girls called me “Snowy Owl” because my hair was starting to turn grey.)

[This is the first entry in my project to write something every day in the 100 days before my retirement, reflecting on my career and life]

“100 Days Left”

May 23, 2018

I was first paid for work outside the home when I was 11 years old. I was paid the lofty sum of 10 DM (Deutsche marks, equivalent to about $2.50 Canadian in 1967 – an awful lot of money to an 11-year-old), by Mrs. MacLeod our neighbour, and my first employer.  

Mrs. MacLeod hired me to supervise and entertain at her daughter Kim’s 5^th birthday party.  At the time, I was known as the “Pied Piper” of the neighbourhood – younger kids clung to me, followed me around and wanted to hang out with me – I have no idea why. Because of my reputation, Mrs. MacLeod thought I could be employed to entertain the kids at the birthday party.  We had a meeting to discuss the plans – yes, my first business meeting!  I presented a proposal.  She needed me for two hours.  

I remember arriving at the MacLeod’s apartment with a bag of tricks and a solid plan in my head.  We’d start with Kim’s Game (I remember thinking that was a very clever idea because the birthday girl’s name was Kim), make a craft, sing some songs, open gifts and have some cake.  All was going well until about five minutes into the party, the Birthday Girl had a hissy fit and up-ended the tray holding the sundry items for Kim’s Game.  She was promptly sent to her room by her mother and we had the rest of the party without her.  Including the cake.  

So not only was this my first paying job, it was also my introduction to the weird and wonderful world of idiosyncratic bosses (it is just me or did you notice that the first syllable of idiosyncratic is the same first syllable of idiot?).  I remember thinking that Mrs. MacLeod was pretty harsh to her daughter, but I was accepting of the fact that she was “the boss” so she got what she wanted.  

All in all, a satisfactory introduction to the working world.  It wasn’t the last time I would be hired based on my reputation, I was paid a very reasonable wage, and I now had some solid experience for my resume.  I was officially a working girl and in great demand – Mrs. MacLeod gave me a good reference and I remember organizing many neighbourhood birthday parties after that.

… are funny things. They’re personal, unrelatable to many, sometimes resemble diaries and mindless thinking, are often brilliant essays, look like journal entries, can be nonsensical, beautiful, confusing, thought-provoking or silly. But most of all they are a forum for sharing our thoughts. If you, dear reader, are interested in my thoughts, I say welcome to my site.