While everyone else was watching the Olympics, I got a summer gig in the accounting offices of the L.A. Section of the National Council of Jewish Women, processing a massive backlog of thrift store donation forms.
It wasn’t a bad gig. Perched in the middle of Fairfax Boulevard, we were never far from food, and the people we worked with were nice. It was a weird summer for me, though. I was in transition between UC San Diego and UC Davis, my love life was a mess of my own making, and I had failed to even chase the summer job I’d REALLY wanted, which was to be a security guard at the Olympics.
I never forgot that lesson.