So, do you have a couch?

This query that typically follows my response to the ceaseless question regarding my studies- psychology- never gets old. Does this mean that I have a couch? Nope. In fact, psychology is far broader than the average person tends to realize, and hence the reason why I was interested in pursuing it. I’ve studied everything from infant development and cognition, to language and culture. This field seems to have something to offer for everyone. Perhaps more importantly, it offers a wider perspective; a challenge to those who have assumptions. And it offers a deeper understanding of why we’re so different yet at the same time, so amazingly similar. That’s truly what I appreciate about psychology. No couch. Sorry.

“Never has anyone with so little to say said so much to so few”

- courtesy of my dear husband

I’ve officially joined the masses- I have my own blog. I decided to create it for a number of reasons. First, I truly enjoy visiting the pages of my friends and family members to see what’s new and exciting in their lives. Many of them live far, which makes it easy to keep in contact. And I’ve been recommended some great recipes and book suggestions from others’ posts. Second, I really enjoy journal writing- and writing in general for that matter. I rarely take the time to sit down and write much of anything, unless it’s one of many forty-page research papers for my graduate program. Unlike the structured, jargon-ridden papers that I’ve become accustomed to within the last few years, I’ve found writing posts like this for a simple blog really serves a greater purpose. It not only provides insight but also serves as a force for self-reflection for me. And plus, it certainly costs less than therapy.

Official Farewell to Long’s

If you could rewind over 7 years ago, back to when I was about 17 years old, you would have found a young, optimistic red-headed girl eager for her senior year of high school, embarking upon her first official job at Long’s Drugs Store in Pleasanton. I remember walking from my mother’s apartment on a hot summer afternoon to the store on the day on my interview- I wore a purple shirt and black pants. I was nervous when the store manager dealt me the typical interview questions, but relived when she asked when I was available to start.

That began my career at register one. A job post that I would assume for over 2 years. During my first week on the job, my trainer assured that I was properly introduced to all of my fellow coworkers. One of which was an outgoing 21-year-old photo technician whom I was introduced to on the hardware isle, in front of the entrance to the break room. He claimed that he recognized me as a former customer, which, sadly, I did not recall. But that did not stop him from insisting that I join him and his friends every Friday night on their group outings. I said no at least three or four times before I finally caved. Little did I know that that part-time photo technician with his amazing blue eyes would turn into my best friend for life.

So, everyday after school during that long senior year, I would walk the couple miles from my high school straight to the store to put in my time. I had dreams of a car and college- so I made sure to work as often as I could. I would work the late shift from 4 to 10pm on weekdays and put in full shifts on most weekends, which certainly wasn’t fun, but at least provided me a way to save up some money. My sister had already been working for a few years at this point, and when she could finally afford a car (R.I.P. ’91 ford tempo- one of the crappiest cars ever made), she would often pick me up from school on her lunch break just to make sure that I didn’t have to walk so far. And then when my shift ended, I would walk home (unless my sister was kind enough to come to my rescue with the tempo, providing it was running for that particular week).

After what felt like forever at register one, someone finally decided that I was capable of something else- stocking. So that became my job. I would set the weekly ads, keep the sale products in stock, face the shelves every night, and organize the warehouse. Then came the cosmetics department, the mailing center, and finally, some brief training in the photo lab. I could officially run every department in the store at this point- with exception of the pharmacy.

One particular event that I will never forget must have occurred at some point around this time- I was about 19 years old, crouched on the floor as I faced the OTC pain relievers (you had to crouch down to find and reach the expired boxes shoved in the back of the shelf). A lady dressed in high heels and a business suit (complete with a purse that could pay for my mother’s entire rent for a month) approached me, asking where something was and I quickly told her where to find it. But before she left, she paused, looked down at me and asked, “What are you doing anyway?” Confused, I replied, “Just straightening the shelves.” The lady quickly responded, “Ah, that’s interesting. Hopefully that will teach you to stay in school next time” and briskly walked away. I nearly fell over in shock, unable to reply, wondering how some random stuck-up lady could amount the nerve to insult a 19 year old kid trying to put herself though community college in order to afford Berkeley one day. Talk about a defining moment.

And while this event is fresh in my mind from retelling, I would like to add that your local drugstore employees are not idiots. Although there are the rare and few that don’t seem to be qualified enough to check out your toothpaste and Doritios, there are so many wonderful people that I have had the opportunity to meet. If you ask me, every one should be required to work in a retail setting at least once during their lifetime. It would definitely change a few things about the way you think, not to mention make you a little more grateful for all work that the “small” employees who can’t quite reach the corporate ladder do on a daily basis.

Back to my story… One night as I performed my nightly routine of facing the OTC shelves in front of the pharmacy, one of the pharmacists leaned over the counter in the pharmacy and hollered, “Hey! Hollie! Would you be interested in working in the pharmacy? We need a good worker back here!” Interested, I replied, “Sure!” This began my career in pharmacy, one that has served me well up until now. I learned everything I needed to know about the pharmacy- how to type prescriptions, call doctor’s offices, multitask while on hold with insurance companies, tell customers that their prescriptions were not ready just yet, and everything else that running a pharmacy entailed. After almost 2 years, I learned that I could be licensed as a technician if I took the PTCB exam, which took some studying, but wasn’t too difficult. This was around the beginning of 2006- when the cute blue-eyed photo technician turned firefighter-in-training asked me to marry him and I graduated with honors from Berkeley.

After we were married, I continued to work in the pharmacy at the Pleasanton store as I prepared my graduate school applications and studied for the GRE. Not long after, a bid we placed on a condo in Walnut Creek was accepted, which made the commute to Pleasanton a little too much. This was when I transferred to the Lafayette store, a small pharmacy store that was convenient and full of hard workers just like my home store back in Pleasanton. Despite a rough start, I learned to like my position in my new store and even made a few friends. But grad school would soon give me the hardest reality check yet.

I thought juggling Berkeley and working 30 hours a week was a challenge. Not even close to my first semester of grad school- talk about a completely exhausted, overworked, and sleep-deprived shell of a person that I walked around in for those first few months. I broke down a few times, wondering if I had enough to get through it. Only with the undying support of my wonderful husband was I able to make it through. After one hell of a semester, I had the chance to breathe again and was even offered a new job opportunity at Children's Hospital & Research Center at Oakland, which I was excited to accept. But this meant that my career with Long’s would need to change.

I became a weekend employee with Long’s, while I split my time at school and at the hospital during the week. But the busy schedule would soon took its toll… which brings me to my decision to leave Long’s. It seemed inevitable all along, yet I’m saddened at the same time. I have so many memories tied to my job with the company. It has been my identity for the past 7+ years. A job that has provided me with all the tools I needed to get by, and even gave me some motivation to push myself even harder along the way (thank you stuck up business lady). So with this, I must say farewell. It’s been fun.

What do you know… the little red-headed girl from register one actually made it.