The summer before my junior year, I got a job at Cyprus Credit Union. For training, I had to drive all the way out to the old headquarters in Magna. (I didn't know streets went that far west.) I was taught everything I needed to know about being a teller by an older girl with very big hair. Though she was only 18 or 19, she was already married. She'd go home for lunch and eat with her husband. So I'd walk across the street and eat my sack lunch by myself, on the lawn outside of the Arctic Circle. Though I ate lunch alone, I spent my break times with my trainer. She made sure we always had the latest shift so we could spend the 15 minutes watching Days of Our Lives on the tiny TV in the break room in the basement. And for that, I will be ever grateful.