Math Assignment Term Paper Made My Job Much Easier

I am good at many things. I am a great swimmer. I love to run and I’d like to think of myself as a really good writer. Math is not my strong point but I force myself to balance my check book and do my own taxes. Numbers just don’t make sense to me. I know that they should but they don’t. I become so frustrated when I have to do any sort of math. I just can’t handle it. I can never get the numbers to match. In order to work my way through college I am hostess at a pretty popular restaurant. It’s a really fun job. The other employees are great and I meet lots of interesting people. Since tips are split the money is pretty good. One day I was doing some critical analysis research for class during a really slow shift. My supervisor approached me about a position he wanted to offer me as an assistant manager. The pay was almost three times what I made now. It was hard to pass up. Even with two student loans I was really having a hard time financially. I took the position and the job seemed pretty easy until it came to crunching numbers. I was in charge of doing all the ordering for the restaurant. I had a budget I had to stick and still had to figure out a way to buy all of the goods we needed. My manager smiled at me when he could see my frustration. He said “Your a college gal, think of it as a math assignment term paper.”

My Government Term Paper Really Set Waves Through the Office

I am a white female. I come from an upper to middle class family in the Northern Suburbs of Baltimore. After I graduated from college with a BA in Journalism thrust into the worst job market ever I got a job in corporate America as a receptionist in a huge marketing firm. At times I felt like I was in a fashion show, I had to wear dresses and heals everyday. I had style my hair and even put on make up. It was so weird. I sat at a huge desk fielding calls about things I knew nothing about. I had to copy, fax and frustrated, clean shaven salesmen often asked me to do things that took just as much time to explain as it would have been for them to do themselves. I felt so above this job. But I desperately needed the money. I was sick of having my parents mail me a check every month and even more sick of my dad asking me when I was getting a job. For the most part things were okay. I did my job everyday and went home. The second month I worked there my manager decided to put a huge flat screen television set in the front lobby. Sounded like a good idea but he also picked the station we would have to watch all day. It was a cable news station that had the market ticker scrolling at the bottom of the screen. It also spewed right winged views all day. I had to hear uptight right wing men who wore suites that were more expensive than my car comment about it daily. I kept my mouth shut for the first couple of days but then I decided a government term paper was in order.

Why Did I Keep All of Those Essays and Research Papers?

I am in my late twenties, married with two kids. It’s a pretty interesting life. I always thought it would be somewhat monotonous and boring. Not really. It’s actually pretty exciting. I have been a high school teacher for five years now. It was really very fun except for all of the essays and research papers I had to grade. It’s really hard being a wife and a mother of two. It’s a lot harder than I thought. I think of my mom who raised four kids on her own and I know I can do anything. But sometimes my life just gets overwhelming. The kids at home demand so much attend and so do the high school kids. Sometimes I sit in my classroom and imagine which one my children will be. The class clown? Teachers pet? The super popular one? The person who gets straight A’s on all his essays and research papers? Hopefully the latter. When I drive home at night I think about my life and my friends and of course my family. I turned down my little suburban street thinking that things could only get better. I pulled into my driveway. My husband, dog and children greeted me. I felt very, very blessed.