Untitled-1.png

Greetings, hi, hello.

Welcome to my site. This is where I showcase my work and write about this thing called life. Enjoy!

Every job I've ever had: part 8.

Every job I've ever had: part 8.

Last time around I mentioned that near the end of my short-lived temp career, I met a man named Eugene Weiss. And looking back, I probably owe him a thank you. See, Gene was one of those fabulous old-school, New York City-types - you know, full suit into the office, lunch out every day, apartment overlooking the park, the whole nine yards. By the time I met him, he was probably around 70, and while he didn’t need to work, he kept at it. In this instance, he held some type of managerial role at a life settlement-backed securities firm. Translation: death bonds. That’s right. Your girl got her corporate start in…finance.

Job #14 - Death bond data entry.

  • Age at time of employment: 24

  • Qualifications: None really.

  • Employer: Progressive Capital Solutions

  • Application process: N/A, previously worked there as a temp.

  • Onboarding: N/A, see above.

  • Training: None.

  • Pay rate: $35,000/year.

A few months after wrapping up with the temp agency and moving back to NJ, Gene hired me as a glorified assistant. My first assignment was to create an employee handbook for the company. Being new with no background in HR or finance or even any relevant experience, I Googled it and then asked my mom for help. Real life adult stuff. Otherwise, the job most involved data entry, inputting actuarial tables of celebrities like Larry King as the company packaged up life insurance policies to sell off. It was a weird industry, and I’m not even sure how legal it is at this point. Spoiler alert: This company no longer exists.

Still, this job was the proverbial foot in the door that I needed. Surrounded by red-faced finance bros screaming “SELL” who showed up late every morning reeking of vodka, wondering how the hell my liberal arts background landed me here of all places. I lasted less than a year, met some lovely people along the way and managed to hand my job off to a series of friends after I left.

Next up: A job I loved and the worst boss I’ve ever had.

Weekend coffee #65.

Weekend coffee #65.

Weekend coffee #64.

Weekend coffee #64.