The story of how I became the Tribune’s proofreader is an amusing one.

Dissatisfied with the job I had at the time, I mailed my resume to the Tribune office in response to a &uot;help wanted&uot; ad. They were looking for someone to proofread the daily newspaper and to type up the news releases. The ability to work under deadline pressure was necessary. Having already worked for about five years in a different position requiring those skills, I was confident that I would at least be granted an interview.

A few days later the Tribune’s editor, Dylan Belden, called me to schedule an interview. He left a message on my answering machine, asking me to call back before 5 p.m. that day. Unfortunately, I didn’t get home until around 6 or 7. That was on a Friday, and my wife and I were going away for the weekend, not to return until Sunday evening. I had missed my opportunity and, reasoning that the job must not have been meant for me, decided to keep my eyes open for other employment opportunities.

Monday morning, I was not in any way looking forward to going to work. I didn’t have to worry about it very long, though. During a heated argument, I walked off the job. I couldn’t take it anymore. And for the first night in a long time, I slept soundly and peacefully. The stress of job unhappiness was finally over.

Tuesday morning, I wasn’t quite sure what to do. I knew I had better find a new job fast, before I grew accustomed to sitting around the house playing video games, surfing the Internet and eating cookies. But for one day, I figured, sloth and gluttony would be completely within reason. After all, I had earned it. Relaxing one day wouldn’t hurt anything.

While surfing the Internet, I remembered that Dylan had called on Friday, and I had not yet returned his call. I was pretty sure that by that time, the position had been filled. However, having previously learned employment-search courtesy, I sent him an e-mail apologizing for not having responded earlier, explaining why I hadn’t, and thanking him for having considered me for employment.

A few hours later, in the middle a rousing game of Resident Evil, the telephone rang. To my surprise, it was Dylan, asking if I could come in for an interview &045; the person he had hired had instead decided to take another job. Later that afternoon, I took the Tribune’s proofreading test, and was offered the job. The best part about it was that it was a part-time job, which would give me time to work on the book I had been writing, while still earning a paycheck.

That Thursday morning, I reported to work at 6 a.m., looking forward to my new job. It was the beginning of a career filled with a wealth of experiences. Besides proofreading and typing news releases, my responsibilities eventually grew to include an occasional writing assignment, the first of which was a short piece on how a snowless winter was affecting local snowmobiling enthusiasts. Later still, I was given my own column.

My memories include my mistakes, too. One that stands out in particular is the time I scanned a news release from a church that was holding a Christmas cantata. When I went into another program to clean up the scanned text, the spell-checking feature did not recognize the word &uot;cantata,&uot; and unfortunately, neither did I. I instead went with the word that was suggested: canasta. Later that week, the Tribune received a letter from the pastor of that church, informing us of the error. He took it in good stride, though, adding that nobody had showed up at the church with a deck of cards.

Sadly, my memories of working at the Tribune ended last Friday, April 18. After having finished my book twice (and still not having it exactly how I want it), I have accepted a full-time position for the first time since August 2001. I certainly didn’t leave due to any dissatisfaction with my job. Like I said, it was a career filled with a wealth of experiences. And I left there knowing the definition of the word &uot;cantata.&uot;

Dustin Petersen is an Albert Lea resident. His column appears Mondays.