I've been having dreams lately about trying to act like a grownup when I don't feel like one. Ever since I started my new job--the first job I've ever had that seemed like it could be a career, my first "grownup" job--I've been nervous about losing it somehow, or not acting professional enough. And I'm not sure what to do about that.
My mom tells me that I don't have to work there, that there are other tax offices in our area. But this one is what I know, so I want to stay if possible. And unfortunately, I don't really know what could be my boss's fault, and what could be mine, if something goes wrong.
But I just keep reminding myself that it doesn't matter if this job blows up in my face; I can get my bearings and start over, even if it is scary. It is not instantly effective, but I don't know what else to do.
I hear my older, conservative coworkers and boss praise Trump once or twice a day, and I keep my mouth shut. I don't think Trump is good for the country. But I'm probably not going to convince them, and I don't feel confident of my position in this job yet. I don't want to offend the people who try to help me, otherwise. Not yet. Maybe not even this year.
I am almost twenty-six, and all of my coworkers and boss are over fifty. They all have opposite-sex spouses. Someday I hope to have a same-sex spouse. They do not know this.
Liberty Tax has a company policy not to discriminate based on sexual orientation. And I live in Oregon, where such discrimination is prohibited anyway--for now. I still don't want to tell them. For now.
I look younger than I am. I wear sweaters, partly in imitation of my coworkers, and partly to keep warm. I took them from my mom, but I don't think they make me look older. I'm a cisgender female, and I have my long hair down, like my boss, and I assume that that is professional enough. I don't dare wear my preferred ponytail, for fear of looking fifteen.
I'm afraid no one wants a "kid" doing their tax returns. I suppose I'll be answering a lot of questions about how old I am, and trying not to get tired of it.
I don't have my tax license back from the state yet. It could take up to 4-6 weeks, and I'm three weeks into that. That is part of my worries about my job. "Peak" is slower to start this year, my boss says, so we're not usually busy, when I've been there. The office already has a receptionist.
4-6 weeks in which I may not be needed. Those are rather dismal prospects. What if my boss decides I need to simply be laid off for the whole season, or until I get my license? What if once I'm gone, she sees no reason to bring me back?
I'm also afraid I don't know how to be professional. Someone was supposed to show me how to answer the phones, but they didn't. There is a lot of pressure not to let the phone ring more than twice. So, while others were too busy, I answered it, imitating my coworkers.
The greeting they want us all to use is long and tedious. "Thank you for calling ______. This is _______. How may I help you?" When I call someone, I get ready to speak right away. If I heard this on the phone, I would get impatient.
My boss mentioned the idea of me answering people's questions about the products we offer, but I only feel confident enough to transfer the call. I might get it wrong. And no one would want one person to answer some questions, and then be put on hold until someone else can answer the others.
I am afraid my voice is too low, especially on the phone. I am afraid I don't sound chipper enough. I can't get up the energy to make it higher, when I'm nervously trying to make my words sound professional. The company's "Always be happy" rule makes me feel like I'm working at Disneyland. The manual especially makes it obvious they want us to buy into the company as an entity and present a certain image. In a way, we are all expected to be the happy Lady Liberty tax dancers they hire to dance on the sidewalks.
I have to learn life in a corporate office structure from scratch. "Policy and Procedure" is a meeting. The printer takes paper facing up, not down. Water goes in the back of the coffee maker, not the coffee pot. I'm lucky I haven't been embarrassed by my ignorance yet. I ask about tax laws, but those other things I found out on my own. I wonder if there's anything I just don't know about working in an office. Or in this office specifically.
I just do what I know to do, remind myself that there are other tax preparer jobs, and comfort myself that it only lasts for three more months, until next year. Next year, I hope, I'll feel more confident. And I always go home and distract myself with entertainment and cats. I know I won't always feel this way, but for now, it can be pretty scary sometimes.
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