We’ve been talking a lot about careers lately at work. This has made me reflect on my own history. Unfortunately, this resembles nothing so much as a firework that has been knocked over and is sputtering in circles on the ground lighting the grass on fire as it goes. I figure the aimlessness of my career is on me. But the typhoid Mary-esque results surely can’t be my fault. The fact is, an alarming percentage of the places I’ve worked or gone to school (and there have been many) have literally gone to pieces as soon as I’ve left.

I have no idea why this is. It’s not as if I spend my spare time making voodoo dolls or chanting curses. I wouldn’t want to. I liked school. I’ve liked the places I’ve worked and the people there. I’ve never wished another person harm in my life. (Well, except maybe people who talk incessantly and take flash pictures while riding rides at Disneyland. The sooner they all sprain their ankles the better.) But, the recent floods in Yellowstone and the fire at a temp job last month have made me wonder again what kind of karma is happening here? I’ve decided to reveal my true work history in this two-part column in hopes that somebody out there can tell me what’s going on.

Just for fun, I looked up my original elementary school in Manhattan, New York, to see if it was still there. It is, but the banner on the website proudly proclaims PS 24 as “The Spuyten Duyvil School,” which I can’t help but read as “The Spitting Devil School.” My parents didn’t know this was an omen.

Here we go. All of this is true.

After kindergarten and first grade at the devil school, we moved to Salt Lake City where I attended Washington Elementary. The school was a beautiful, old-fashioned building with polished wood and graceful archways. The summer after I graduated, it was torn down.

Next, I went to Bryant Junior High. The summer after I graduated, it was torn down.

I moved on to West High School. It’s still standing, but the summer after I graduated, the seminary building was torn down. “You’re a little rough on the schools you attend,” my parents joked.

The summer after high school, I worked at Taco Time. It went out of business soon after I quit. This struck me as odd, because it seemed like a great location. Apparently not. No business has ever been successful in that spot since.

I went to Brigham Young University but took a break to do some good in the world by serving a mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. I went to West Virginia. I really loved the people there, so I felt extra bad as I helped them dig out from the record breaking floods that hit my area.

Back in college, I met my future husband. During my last semester, some big mouth in my family told him about my other schools and the flood. He laughed and teased me with speculations about what might happen to BYU once I left. Then he came with me to meet with the counselor for my graduation sign off, but we couldn’t finish the appointment because of the fire alarm. “Maybe I should reconsider,” he said as he watched the people streaming out of the building.

I rescheduled for later and graduated. The religion building was immediately torn down. I began to wonder what God was trying to say to me? I’m not that much of a heretic. And what was with all the copies of the mission rulebook that I kept finding? I’d barely read the one I was given. Where had the other eight come from?

But I digress. Luck was with me. Dave dismissed my record as coincidence and married me anyway. We had a lovely honeymoon in Germany just before the Berlin wall came down.

Since we had no children yet, we thought it would be fun to take jobs teaching English in Japan. We worked for one year, finishing in 1990. This signaled the beginning of economic chaos so bad that the ’90s in Japan are referred to as “the lost decade.”

We came back to the USA, happy to be home in a place where we speak the language and where tuna fish is not a pizza topping.

We were still newlyweds. What did life have in store for us? I’ll tell you next time. Spoiler alert: There’s more flooding.

Anneli Byrd is an academic adviser in Weber State University’s Student Success Center.

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