Entry Level

Some of my “higher up” coworkers say entry level like it’s a dirty word, like it’s a prison from which to escape, like it’s sad or pathetic for an adult woman to make copies, schedule conference rooms, order lunch for them. They say thank you with pity, with a little bit of disaffected scorn.

I’m so proud of my work. I learned Outlook, Excel, Word, I learned how to change the ink in a copier, I learned how to take the train to work every morning and show up breezy with a cup of coffee looking like a woman of the world. I don’t check in with anybody, I am basically invisible, nobody knows what my life is like, and I feel so cozy in my anonymity.

I work for Professional Transition Services and while I understand that admin asst. isn’t a glamorous job, I see so much room to grow here. I get a paycheck made out to me and I don’t have to ask anyone how to spend it. They give me days off when I need them and I mostly use them to go to museums or to just ride the train around town.