These are a few of my favorite things...

I have to admit, I was getting worried about myself. Worried about myself and my lacking work ethic. My last job, if you remember, was at the Picture People where I spent my days taking adorable pictures of adorable children.

And I hated it.

I hated my job. But it didn't make any sense because I loved photography! And kids! And having a paycheck! Logic states that I should have been in minimum wage HEAVEN. Yet in practice, putting those three favorite things together, caused all logic to be thrown out the window, and I very much wanted to take a blunt object to the eye rather than go to work. It didn't matter if it was a pathetic 4 hour shift, I would dread every moment leading up to the time I had to go into work, and then I would count down every individual second until the shift was over. Basically, time was measure in increments of Dread.

Before that job, I worked at the YMCA nursery. I hated that too. And all I ever did was play Wii with children who made my heart sing and burst into a million tiny pieces with their hugs and adorableness and edible fat cheeks and everything. Before that, I worked at a Coldstone Creamery, which - come on now - is working with ice cream! ICE CREAM! Best thing in the WORLD! And there were waffle cones, and toppings, and so many tubs of buttercream frosting for the ice cream cakes, that I gained a pound every time I opened one up. All I'm saying is, I worked with the things that basically fill up my top ten list of Favorite Things Ever, and yet when I put them in the context of a Job, throwing myself on a bed of hot coals was suddenly beginning to sound like a better idea than - ugh - going to work. Again. Blegh. So naturally, I was coming to the inevitable conclusion over these past few years that I was just a lazy, lazy person and never wanted to do a single thing that involved me getting off my fat butt and leaving the house. Oh, I was so very disappointed in myself. *sniffle*

But - and here is where I cue a heavenly choir full of harmonic AhhhAHHHhhhaaahhhs - here I am at Disney, and I've taken to it like something else other than a duck to water, only because that is such a cliche, but I cannot for the life of me think of anything witty or fresh to put in it's place (Picasso to painting weird-ass pictures? Hitler to mass-murder? Fat women to hot dogs? Something like that...). If I had to work more than 15 hours a week at my previous job, I might as well be listening to someone run their nails down a chalkboard for 15 hours, it was that kind of torture. Now I work as many as 60 hours a week on Everest, and I love it (there are some crappy things about the job, but overall, it's pretty awesome). My body kind of hates me for loving it, because my legs feel like they weigh about a 100 lbs each somewhere around hour 50, but I genuinely don't mind the work. Guests give me a headache, and some positions can only be of Satan's devising; but I love the people I work with, I love most of the rest of the positions, and I love Disney. And finally, I have found something where putting my favorite things together does not bizarrely turn them into a massive vortex of Suck.