If It Smells Like Fish; It Probably Is...Part 1

Here is another look into one of my illustrious career choices. This one was driven by lack of work and my overwhelming desire to keep busy. I’m the first to admit I have a problem, I just don’t know how to fix it…

During the early weeks of “one summer of boredom”, I was determined to do something new with my career. Who was I kidding? I didn’t believe anything could possibly jumpstart my current disaster, but I was convinced that there had to be something out there that would pass some time during my regular 9-5 working hours.

While bemoaning my latest lack of work dilemma to my best friend, she asks, “Why don’t you just come to work for me for a couple days a week for the summer months?” “What exactly do you do?” is my response.

For as many years as I’ve known my BF, I’ve never quite figured out how she earns a living. I only know that she is a government employee, has a lot of accumulated holiday time and that her title is something like Regional Lake Coordinator, Department of Natural Resources Fisheries Division, Eastern Lower Lakes Region. With a title as long as that, I’m sure no one has ever been bothered to ask her what she does, fearing her explanation would be just as long as her title, filled with uninteresting, technical and scientific babble.

Well, with the shocked look that came to her face, you would swear that I just committed a highly offensive act, like spitting on her shoes or kicking her dog and then she retorted, “Well first of all I’m offended that you need to ask me that question. We’re best friends for crying out loud! What do you think I do?”

But before I could respond, she states quite matter-of-factly, “I get to go for boat rides and count fish.” “Seriously?” I snorted, as I began to laugh uncontrollably. “Do you really think I could have guessed that you get paid to do that? That’s hilarious. When do you need me to start and what’s the dress code?” Her response simply was, “sweatpants and rubber boots.”

It was decided, I would take a pay cut at my real job in exchange for a three day work week for balance of the summer. The other two days would be spent “on the lake”, getting paid to enjoy the summer weather. I was looking forward to a different pace – Jacques Cousteau here I come. But first, I was going to need a pair of rubber boots and this time, it wouldn’t be for the bullshit I was accustomed to wading through! Little did I know, fish slime wasn’t much better.