Fresh Baked

Thursday, December 16, 2004

When You Care Enough to Send the Very Best.

Around this time two years ago, my sister decided that she had too much free time on her hands and wanted a second job. She was already working 10 hour days, mind you, but as she had been recently working 17 hour days, the extra 7 hours meant, to her, a significant amount of time to be used in a fruitful fashion.

At that time, I was working a 40 hour week plus taking a class 2 nights a week. I thought my time was filled just fine, thank you. But then! Then I see her, and she's working, and she makes it seem like she's got something figured out-- an extra job means extra money, which means less Christmas prezzy stress with some fairly mindless second jobbed input on her end. So you can see where this equation is going. Yup: x equals the difference of y less b over π (x = (y - b)/π). Or, wherein x equals me getting a second job as well. At Hallmark, which I thought was going to be a wonderful because Yay! Cards and ornaments! But no.

The first day, I was asked to dust the displays. The second day, I was told that I took too long dusting the day before, so now I would have to be timed. TIMED. And that I really shouldn't dust so much as I should wave the feather duster in the general direction of a display. (My supervisor sounded much like Lesley Ann Warren-- her "Fiiiiiiiive minutes!" was especially degrading and saccharine.) Then came time for me to learn how to use the vacuum. I had "Fiiiiiiiive minutes!" to go over the store. But only in a 'just get the big stuff' kind of way. This, I also did not do well, as I exceeded the time limit given. I figured, what with stopping for customer service and all, the 5 minutes was more of a suggestion. I was wrong. I was, however, commended on my stress management while working the cash register (there were 5 people in line at once, you see), but it seemed that my store beautification skills would be forever lacking. The last time I was asked to vacuum, I told her to start the timer as I went to get it. The last time I dusted, a model car suffered a drop from the high shelf. Oops!

About two weeks into the job, I was dreading going back to the store. Dread. I could summon not one single ounce of energy for it. More than anything, I just wanted to not show up and forget I ever worked there. Then Eia called. Having worked her flippin' ass off, she was tired and didn't want to go into work that night. Both of us were lamenting ever taking these jobs and suffering such guilt over not wanting to go in when we struck a deal-- I would call in sick for her, if she would call in and quit for me. Yes. I FELT SO BADLY ABOUT HATING THIS LAME JOB THAT I HAD TO HAVE MY SISTER CALL IN AND QUIT FOR ME. Not on my behalf, but to actually pretend she was me and say the words "I'm not coming back in anymore."

Yeah... I felt badly about that for about fiiiiiive minutes.