If you’re at work on Tuesday and it feels like you’re already in the middle of the workweek, it might be because you’ve fallen into a routine of getting a jump on Monday by starting work on Sunday.
At age 53, my mother was diagnosed with a malignant brain tumor. When I started at the hotel that summer, we still thought it was possible that she might get better. By the time I quit, she was almost gone.
“It’s official: Working from home is the worst,” writes Fusion’s Casey Tolan, pointing to research showing that “people who telecommute 15.1 hours a week or more (or roughly two days per week) actually report decreased job satisfaction.”
There is an ordained minister cat—via the Universal Life Church, of course—and plenty of cats who have been hired to kill mice at various businesses, from distilleries to pubs. (Let’s not think about that one too hard.)
In 2014, I spent nine months as an Uber Customer Service Representative. I found the posting on Craigslist while looking for telecommuting jobs. At the time I didn’t think it would be the job I would later leave off of my resume.
As a first-year high school teacher, I was required to lead a cat dissection unit. This is my story.
My primary responsibilities as a stay-at-home dad of three consist of breaking up toddler fights before they go from hilarious to incapacitating and somehow finding a way to pay half of our household bills. To do the latter, I’ve held a variety of part-time and odd-hour jobs.
Bourree Lam writes in the Atlantic about the negative results that can occur when a prospective employer asks for your salary history.
Whenever I find myself between jobs, or in a lean patch, I always seem to fall back on hadracha, staffing youth trips as they come to visit Israel for two weeks or longer.
I now make half my living as a wedding singer, and I got no shame about that. Being a wedding singer is possibly, by far, the best job I’ve ever had.