People seem obsessed with “firsts” when children are little. I get it, it’s exciting the first time something happens (mostly). But the thing is, I’m on the cusp of being 35 years old and I still experience many firsts. I just had another one today.
As you may know, my part time job is subbing for a county system. There are a dozen or so of us subs. Recently they just hired a couple more, one of whom happens to be named Olivia. Recently, I got an email of thanks from a branch manager for something I did while staffing that branch. Except, I did not staff that branch on that day and did not do the thing for which I was thanked. It was odd. I forwarded it along to the correct Olivia and copied my supervisor so they would be aware of the snafu.
Today, I received an email from my boss, copying the branch manager where I am working on Saturday. The email said this:
Saturday has been partially filled at NTN and Ruth thinks they’ll be OK – thanks Olivia M!
And just like that, I had another first. First time (in my recollection) that I was called by my first name and last initial. I understand this is common practice for elementary schools, where classrooms often have students with the same first name. Growing up as an Olivia in the 80s, all my friends were named Jennifer and Katie, this was NOT something I had encountered.
But, here I am, a professional, an adult, and suddenly I’ve lived this first. I have to say, I don’t really care for it. I think I should just be Olivia and this new girl should be Olivia 2. After all I came first (both in the job and in life), but it was nice to experience it, even if slightly out of traditional context.
Olivia M. (see, you thought it was weird, too!)