I keep getting these job offers that I don't want. And they keep coming back to haunt me.
First, the cell phone company leaves me hanging for weeks and makes me think they didn't want me, giving me enough time to talk myself out of even wanting it, before they call and say they wanted a second interview. I turned them down. Then, the promotion at my current job that fell through in February suddenly came open a few days ago. Once again, I was given enough time to talk myself out of it and even felt relieved that I didn't get it. But I was actually singled out for the position this time around. And no one had to get into a car crash this time around, which was pretty nice. I don't want to say I was guilted into it, necessarily, but the supervisor made it seem like I was the only reliable choice. I didn't want to disappoint him and I did need the pay raise so I hesitantly agreed.
Plus, being a supervisor looks good on an resume, right? 'Cause the bachelor's degree sure hasn't been helping.
I think the thing that sucks the most is how I absolutely work myself up into a tizzy about whether or not I should take these jobs. From the cell phone place to my current job, any time something that could possibly be better was offered, I ended up feeling sick over the decision. I walked around with heartburn for days, agonizing over whether I should take the chance or wait until something definitely better came along.
The only problem is I have no way of knowing if something better will come along. Jobs are pretty scarce in general and even more so in my town. I suppose it's just the fact that I am already so sad and I don't think I could take another disappointment or another crappy job. It would finally do me in.
My indecisiveness is pretty maddening. I was always a pretty indecisive person but it really got bad once I went off to college. I was so sure, so unbelievably sure about going there and in a matter of days it all blew up in my face and radically changed me, from the way I thought and felt to my outlook on life. It changed my world, and not for the better. And I think for my first big decision to be such a disaster, it implanted paranoia in my head. I was never sure of anything after that. And it's not even about the big stuff, like jobs or education. A few days ago, I stood in the frozen food section for thirty minutes trying to pick out a pizza to eat that night. I scanned each one, checking the prices and ingredients and tried to tap into my tummy to find out what it was craving. I put one pizza in my shopping cart, then put it back, grabbed another and then put that one back as well. I just wasn't sure what the right choice was.
And so I found myself pondering whether I should take the supervisor position. I talked to a lot of people and with each person I talked to, I felt differently about taking it. One person made me feel good, another made me want to retract my acceptance. I wondered if it would be another bad choice. Would it be like the old job at the bingo facility where I transferred positions, thinking it would be better, and ended up being worse?
It sucks to be so unsure of things. And it sucks to feel like the type of person who can't make good decisions, who can never seem to get things right when it comes to making big, or even small, choices. I'll probably end up sticking with pursuing the new position, and I'm sure I'll regret it, but it's more money and I definitely need that. I'm just not sure if I need all the extra stress and responsibilities.
I just need to get my book finished so I can send it off to agencies and get a book deal and become comfortable enough to quit retail and not have to worry about any of that anymore. Or I need to at least hold on to that dream so I don't end up putting my head in the oven. Hey, if I can't be a writer, at least I can go out like one. Am I right, ladies?
Friday, July 22, 2011
Sunday, July 10, 2011
book notes #6 and more
I didn't want all of my updates to be about book writing but that's basically all I've been doing and as I'm trying to keep this blog updated, I guess that's what I'll update about. Sorry in advance.
Last month was pretty productive in terms of writing. I had written approximately 57 pages over the course of two years prior to last month. It's not as if those 57 pages were perfect and I worked tirelessly every day to make every word gold. I just wrote for a few weeks and then took a few months off. Obviously, it was getting me nowhere. So, after receiving a proof copy of my first novel, it inspired me to forge ahead with my memoir. And in that month, I wrote another 57 pages. I still have about 200 to go so I'm nowhere near finished but I'm still plugging away at it.
I have to say I feel good about the book so far. As I was looking over my notes, it brought back so many details that had gotten lost in the gutter of my head. Scents, visuals, and even strands of dialogue came back to me as I wrote. Also, I realized how varied the book will be. While it focuses on my time in college, it also addresses a wide variety of issues that I dealt with before I even stepped foot in school and issues that I'm still dealing with today. I think once it's finished it'll give a pretty good picture of who I was as a whole, not just a college student. We've got God and sex and art and mental health and death and eating disorders.
And the best part about it so far is that it's been fun to write. Not only do I feel like I'm working with some good material but it's just been enjoyable to go back and relive those moments. Even the not so good times were worth revisiting because it's been pretty therapeutic overall and has given me a bit more perspective on things.
In other news, I feel like I have completely disconnected myself from the real world. My mind has been filled with writing two books and reading Harry Potter with any spare time I have and I haven't left much mental energy to concentrate on the issues that are slowly dissolving me into a second death. My existence is in shambles and I've just been ignoring it by placing my priorities elsewhere. I hate my job but I've all but given up on finding something else because there is nothing here for me. I hate my body but I'm too lazy to exercise and I'm too depressed to eat healthy because fattening foods make me feel better, no matter how short-lived the feeling may be. It's better than the emptiness. At least that's what I try to tell myself. I know better but I ignore it.
If I had to work in retail, I wish that I could work somewhere a bit more upscale, somewhere where the customers observe a minimum standard of hygiene, like bathing and brushing their teeth. I had one gentleman shuffle his way into my department the other day and as I was processing his transaction, I literally had to hold my breath. The body odor was so strong it was sharp, like it was stabbing my face. Naturally, it took him several minutes to get the change back into his wallet. Her gingerly eased the money in as I began to turn blue and become lightheaded. I actually had to turn around and take a breath before going back in. I don't deserve this.
There are three other coworkers besides myself who have bachelor's degrees. And none of us can find anything better than crappy part-time work with this company. I think it's kind of sad. One's in business, the other in education, the other in social work. I think they still stand a better chance at finding something than I do, at least something relatively nearby. But the fact that they can't find work still makes me feel bad for them. We all spent so much time and money to become educated, to do better for ourselves, and we are all still stuck. And also in student loan debt on top of that.
The lady from the wireless phone company finally called me back the other day. I had actually given up on getting a call back and put it out of my mind so when she called, I was surprised. Obviously, I wasn't going to take it. I had already decided that, especially when my work said they wouldn't let me stay on with them if I took the full-time job. I didn't want to risk leaving something secure to jump into something I wasn't sure would work out. I'm not a daredevil like that.
The funny thing is I wanted them to call me back even though I wasn't going to accept. I just needed to know that they wanted me, that I was good enough. But after I started thinking about it, I realized I was good enough. I rocked that interview so hard and I am darn good at customer service, although I loathe it. I pretty much hate all people but I am awesome at pretending I don't. I realized I didn't need their validation and I was proud of myself for owning that. But, I got the validation anyway so I had to make an awkward phone call back to the lady to explain to her that I was no longer interested in the position. I wondered why it took her so long to call back as she told me it would be two days but instead it was around two weeks. She never gave me an explanation so I'll never know. My paranoid mind thinks she might have hired someone else and they didn't work out? So I was second best. Or maybe she just got busy. I don't know and I don't have the energy to care. It's done.
Plus, she kept calling me Brandon. I hate that. Even during the interview with my application sitting right in her lap, she called me Brandon. People have done that all of my life. When I'm at work, people read my name badge and call me Brandon. Most of my teachers from middle and high school still know me as Brandon. It really makes me feel good about who I am. Thank you.
Last month was pretty productive in terms of writing. I had written approximately 57 pages over the course of two years prior to last month. It's not as if those 57 pages were perfect and I worked tirelessly every day to make every word gold. I just wrote for a few weeks and then took a few months off. Obviously, it was getting me nowhere. So, after receiving a proof copy of my first novel, it inspired me to forge ahead with my memoir. And in that month, I wrote another 57 pages. I still have about 200 to go so I'm nowhere near finished but I'm still plugging away at it.
I have to say I feel good about the book so far. As I was looking over my notes, it brought back so many details that had gotten lost in the gutter of my head. Scents, visuals, and even strands of dialogue came back to me as I wrote. Also, I realized how varied the book will be. While it focuses on my time in college, it also addresses a wide variety of issues that I dealt with before I even stepped foot in school and issues that I'm still dealing with today. I think once it's finished it'll give a pretty good picture of who I was as a whole, not just a college student. We've got God and sex and art and mental health and death and eating disorders.
And the best part about it so far is that it's been fun to write. Not only do I feel like I'm working with some good material but it's just been enjoyable to go back and relive those moments. Even the not so good times were worth revisiting because it's been pretty therapeutic overall and has given me a bit more perspective on things.
In other news, I feel like I have completely disconnected myself from the real world. My mind has been filled with writing two books and reading Harry Potter with any spare time I have and I haven't left much mental energy to concentrate on the issues that are slowly dissolving me into a second death. My existence is in shambles and I've just been ignoring it by placing my priorities elsewhere. I hate my job but I've all but given up on finding something else because there is nothing here for me. I hate my body but I'm too lazy to exercise and I'm too depressed to eat healthy because fattening foods make me feel better, no matter how short-lived the feeling may be. It's better than the emptiness. At least that's what I try to tell myself. I know better but I ignore it.
If I had to work in retail, I wish that I could work somewhere a bit more upscale, somewhere where the customers observe a minimum standard of hygiene, like bathing and brushing their teeth. I had one gentleman shuffle his way into my department the other day and as I was processing his transaction, I literally had to hold my breath. The body odor was so strong it was sharp, like it was stabbing my face. Naturally, it took him several minutes to get the change back into his wallet. Her gingerly eased the money in as I began to turn blue and become lightheaded. I actually had to turn around and take a breath before going back in. I don't deserve this.
There are three other coworkers besides myself who have bachelor's degrees. And none of us can find anything better than crappy part-time work with this company. I think it's kind of sad. One's in business, the other in education, the other in social work. I think they still stand a better chance at finding something than I do, at least something relatively nearby. But the fact that they can't find work still makes me feel bad for them. We all spent so much time and money to become educated, to do better for ourselves, and we are all still stuck. And also in student loan debt on top of that.
The lady from the wireless phone company finally called me back the other day. I had actually given up on getting a call back and put it out of my mind so when she called, I was surprised. Obviously, I wasn't going to take it. I had already decided that, especially when my work said they wouldn't let me stay on with them if I took the full-time job. I didn't want to risk leaving something secure to jump into something I wasn't sure would work out. I'm not a daredevil like that.
The funny thing is I wanted them to call me back even though I wasn't going to accept. I just needed to know that they wanted me, that I was good enough. But after I started thinking about it, I realized I was good enough. I rocked that interview so hard and I am darn good at customer service, although I loathe it. I pretty much hate all people but I am awesome at pretending I don't. I realized I didn't need their validation and I was proud of myself for owning that. But, I got the validation anyway so I had to make an awkward phone call back to the lady to explain to her that I was no longer interested in the position. I wondered why it took her so long to call back as she told me it would be two days but instead it was around two weeks. She never gave me an explanation so I'll never know. My paranoid mind thinks she might have hired someone else and they didn't work out? So I was second best. Or maybe she just got busy. I don't know and I don't have the energy to care. It's done.
Plus, she kept calling me Brandon. I hate that. Even during the interview with my application sitting right in her lap, she called me Brandon. People have done that all of my life. When I'm at work, people read my name badge and call me Brandon. Most of my teachers from middle and high school still know me as Brandon. It really makes me feel good about who I am. Thank you.
Friday, June 24, 2011
book notes #5
I decided to go ahead and use the free proof copy on the novel I wrote for National Novel Writing Month last year. I didn't have time to edit it or even read over it but, as I mentioned, I thought it might be interesting to print it out just as it was written to see what I could do in such a short length of time. Then, later on if I decide to edit it seriously, I can resubmit the novel and have it printed out again. Then, I can compare the first draft to the final product.
The process was incredibly easy. You just upload the work as a PDF, upload a cover or use their cover creator program, obtain an ISBN number and submit it. They have to approve all the files before they are ready for you to order the proof. They said it could take up to 48 hours but I think mine was done in a day. I ordered the proof copy, put in my discount code and got it for free. It's usually around 7 dollars plus 3 dollars shipping but I only had to pay the shipping. And in a few short days, it arrive in my mail!
I would have liked to have created my own cover but as I was pressed for time and running against the free proof expiration, I decided to go ahead and use the websites cover creator. So, it's not really what I envisioned it looking like (I don't even know what I would envision it looking like) but I think it came out quite nice. The overall quality is pretty good, too. For the record, I'm no book aficionado but it looks just as good as something you can pick up at Barnes & Noble. So, I'm pretty happy with the end result. I'd be even happier if the book were entirely finished and I had my own cover but to have a physical copy of my first book practically for free, I'm pretty pleased.
The process was incredibly easy. You just upload the work as a PDF, upload a cover or use their cover creator program, obtain an ISBN number and submit it. They have to approve all the files before they are ready for you to order the proof. They said it could take up to 48 hours but I think mine was done in a day. I ordered the proof copy, put in my discount code and got it for free. It's usually around 7 dollars plus 3 dollars shipping but I only had to pay the shipping. And in a few short days, it arrive in my mail!
I would have liked to have created my own cover but as I was pressed for time and running against the free proof expiration, I decided to go ahead and use the websites cover creator. So, it's not really what I envisioned it looking like (I don't even know what I would envision it looking like) but I think it came out quite nice. The overall quality is pretty good, too. For the record, I'm no book aficionado but it looks just as good as something you can pick up at Barnes & Noble. So, I'm pretty happy with the end result. I'd be even happier if the book were entirely finished and I had my own cover but to have a physical copy of my first book practically for free, I'm pretty pleased.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
job prospect paralysis, part II
I walked around with heartburn all day because of the job situation. I wasn't sure whether or not I should take it. The good parts sounded really good and the bad parts sounded really bad. It felt like a combination of my two job prospects I have had in the past: doing really well during the interview for the electric company and wondering if I should take the supervisor position at my current job.
It was really weird how this new opportunity mirrored the previous one with the electric company. Both jobs came out of the blue. I rocked both interviews. And, as it turns out, neither one of them called me back. The only difference was I really wanted the one at the Electric Cooperative.
I'm left kind of confused. Perhaps I'm totally off but like I said, I think I did really well in the interview. I made her laugh. I was charming and acted interested. She said it was obvious I had the customer service part down. So, what went wrong? I was supposed to get a call yesterday for a second interview over the phone but when I didn't, I thought maybe the lady had gotten behind and she'd ring me today. She didn't. I can't say I'm too upset about it because I was going to turn her down anyway. What really clenched the decision for me was the fact that my current job said they wouldn't work with the new job's schedule, even though they will work around anyone else's. I always thought I'd have the old job to fall back on if the new one didn't work but I just can't risk quitting one job and taking another with no stability.
Although I didn't want to take the job, I didn't want to have to tell her. I just thought if she didn't call, I wouldn't have to worry about having that awkward exchange. Then again, if she didn't call, that would mean I wasn't good enough or qualified enough for them, which would be pretty upsetting. So, I realized, yes, I did want her to call. It would show I was good enough, that someone actually wanted me. But, I guess I wasn't. I guess they didn't.
There's always the chance she could call tomorrow but that would mean she was terribly behind schedule and I just don't see it happening. Of course, if she did call it would make me feel better about my qualifications but I think the chances of that are slim.
As I said, I'm not upset about not getting the job but I am a little disappointed that I lost out on another opportunity. When you send out applications and resumes constantly and never hear anything back, it's disheartening. And when you finally do snag that interview and when you are amazing and then you still don't get it, it's even more miserable.
While I'm slightly deflated, I'm also relieved. At least I don't have the stress of trying to make a decision and the stress of worrying if I'd make the wrong one. Seems like the choice was made for me. Now, I can go back to hating my current job, which continues to get worse.
Speaking of, my supervisor is retiring and I'm worried she'll be replaced with someone unsavory. And the air conditioning was damaged a few weeks ago and the already hot building is now sweltering. I've always complained about being hot 'cause I'm just naturally a fat, sweaty guy and when I get stressed out or nervous (which is all the time) it makes me even hotter. So, imagine how I feel now that the air conditioning isn't working. Everyone has been complaining and I'm like, "Well, now you all know what I've been talking about this whole time." Except they really don't because now I'm still hotter than they are 'cause now I'm twice as hot. It certainly doesn't help the rumors that the place is actually a doorway to hell with demons shooting out and taking the guise of disgruntled customers.
It was really weird how this new opportunity mirrored the previous one with the electric company. Both jobs came out of the blue. I rocked both interviews. And, as it turns out, neither one of them called me back. The only difference was I really wanted the one at the Electric Cooperative.
I'm left kind of confused. Perhaps I'm totally off but like I said, I think I did really well in the interview. I made her laugh. I was charming and acted interested. She said it was obvious I had the customer service part down. So, what went wrong? I was supposed to get a call yesterday for a second interview over the phone but when I didn't, I thought maybe the lady had gotten behind and she'd ring me today. She didn't. I can't say I'm too upset about it because I was going to turn her down anyway. What really clenched the decision for me was the fact that my current job said they wouldn't work with the new job's schedule, even though they will work around anyone else's. I always thought I'd have the old job to fall back on if the new one didn't work but I just can't risk quitting one job and taking another with no stability.
Although I didn't want to take the job, I didn't want to have to tell her. I just thought if she didn't call, I wouldn't have to worry about having that awkward exchange. Then again, if she didn't call, that would mean I wasn't good enough or qualified enough for them, which would be pretty upsetting. So, I realized, yes, I did want her to call. It would show I was good enough, that someone actually wanted me. But, I guess I wasn't. I guess they didn't.
There's always the chance she could call tomorrow but that would mean she was terribly behind schedule and I just don't see it happening. Of course, if she did call it would make me feel better about my qualifications but I think the chances of that are slim.
As I said, I'm not upset about not getting the job but I am a little disappointed that I lost out on another opportunity. When you send out applications and resumes constantly and never hear anything back, it's disheartening. And when you finally do snag that interview and when you are amazing and then you still don't get it, it's even more miserable.
While I'm slightly deflated, I'm also relieved. At least I don't have the stress of trying to make a decision and the stress of worrying if I'd make the wrong one. Seems like the choice was made for me. Now, I can go back to hating my current job, which continues to get worse.
Speaking of, my supervisor is retiring and I'm worried she'll be replaced with someone unsavory. And the air conditioning was damaged a few weeks ago and the already hot building is now sweltering. I've always complained about being hot 'cause I'm just naturally a fat, sweaty guy and when I get stressed out or nervous (which is all the time) it makes me even hotter. So, imagine how I feel now that the air conditioning isn't working. Everyone has been complaining and I'm like, "Well, now you all know what I've been talking about this whole time." Except they really don't because now I'm still hotter than they are 'cause now I'm twice as hot. It certainly doesn't help the rumors that the place is actually a doorway to hell with demons shooting out and taking the guise of disgruntled customers.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
job prospect paralysis
I was at work like usual when a guy came over to exchange a shirt. He has come in several times before and I knew his face but not his name. He always seemed pretty nice but we never engaged in conversation. Yet as I was ringing up the transaction, he started talking to me.
"Do you work full time?" he asked.
"No," I replied.
"Are you a student?"
"Nope," I replied.
"Oh, okay. Well, I work for the cell phone company across the street and you're always so good with me and customer service oriented and we're hiring right now if you might be interested in applying."
This kind of caught me off guard and I wasn't sure how to react. So, I told him I'd come in and pick up an application. He left and left me with a lot of swirling questions in my mind.
I had actually researched the company in the past and I hadn't heard great things. But, I hate my current job and really wanted to get out. I had put in applications at other places and hadn't heard anything. Nothing was panning out and this guy just randomly walks in and asks me if I'd want to work there. There was a part of me that wondered, "Was that some sort of sign?" Stuff like that just doesn't happen often. And jobs just are not easy to get around here. There's no where to work and the places that are decent aren't hiring because everyone is hanging on to those decent jobs.
But, then I remembered I can't for the afterlife of me differentiate between intended and incidental.
I got off work and walked into the store and the guy was there with an application for me. He even introduced me to his manager. She shook my hand and asked if I'd like to come in the next day for an interview. Whoa. Everything was going so fast. I kind of stumbled and then agreed.
From the time the guy asked me about joining him up to the interview, my stomach was in knots. I had heartburn the entire day because I was so worried about it. I wasn't too concerned with doing well during the interview but accepting a job offer if it was given to me. What should I do? Everything was happening faster than I could process. I had resigned myself to the fact that I would probably still be at the retail store for a long time and if and when I did leave, it would be on my own terms. Plus, I had hoped my next job would be free of the public. This wasn't free of the public. But, there was a hope of something better. Because I had so many questions, and reservations, about what was going on, I thought I might feel better about what I wanted to do after the interview.
As I was waiting to be interviewed, the guy who offered me a chance at the job came up to me and said, "She told me a lot of the interviewees were pretty low energy so try to pep it up, okay?" I thought that was pretty nice that he had told me that. I wondered if he was rooting for me specifically.
The interview went so well. I wouldn't have went back and changed a thing. I was charming, personable, made the lady laugh. We talked about the job, cell phones and computers, Apple vs. Droid, and even a bit of personal stuff. It lasted over two hours. I felt my chances were pretty good once I left but I still wasn't sure what I wanted to do. I didn't necessarily feel worse about it but I didn't feel better. I had hoped the interview would be the decision maker but I still felt just as hazy as ever.
My main concern is having to meet and exceed quotas. You get a commission, which is nice if you sell enough devices, new lines and accessories but if you miss the quota, you're given a warning, written up if you miss again and then fired if you miss a third time. So, when things are good, they are really good. When they are bad, you're canned. I wasn't sure I'd be able to handle that. They tried to make me feel better by saying no one hadn't made their goals and they helped each other out if anyone got behind but that's all good for them but I'm not a salesman. I don't like trying to get people to do or buy something they don't want to, even if I'm not being pushy, only persuasive. I still don't like it. Plus, I just don't want to deal with people.
One of the other iffy things she said was that I'd have to follow up with customers to see if they were satisfied with their phones and plans. I don't really want to invest that kind of time or energy into some stranger who I could care less about. I guess that's the point, though, to turn those strangers into clients who come back and come to me when they need to spend more money. Eh, I just don't care, though.
But what really freaks me out is the quotas. I have quotas at my current job but management is pretty relaxed about people meeting them. It's encouraged but not enforced so it's not really stressful. I just feel like, with my messed up mind and the way I worry about so many things, big and small, that I would constantly be stressed out trying to meet the quotas. I'm already a stressed out guy in general and my current job makes it worse but at least my job isn't in jeopardy. I have job security where I am now, even thought I hate it. They'll have me as long as I want to be there. So, why would I want to throw that away for a job that I might fail at miserably? For a (possibly) better work environment? For better pay? For commission? Is it worth it?
I just don't know.
If I were a normal person with any kind of confidence, I'm sure I wouldn't hesitate to take the job. It's way more money, which is important. But, what really matters? Money or madness? I just hate that my insecurities have crippled my life and my decisions. And because I tend to make the wrong decisions, I'm sure whatever I decide will be completely wrong.
Who knows, I might not even get it. I still have to go through a second interview. I almost think it would be easier if I didn't get it. At least I wouldn't have to make that agonizing decision on whether I should take the job or not. The decision would be made for me.
"Do you work full time?" he asked.
"No," I replied.
"Are you a student?"
"Nope," I replied.
"Oh, okay. Well, I work for the cell phone company across the street and you're always so good with me and customer service oriented and we're hiring right now if you might be interested in applying."
This kind of caught me off guard and I wasn't sure how to react. So, I told him I'd come in and pick up an application. He left and left me with a lot of swirling questions in my mind.
I had actually researched the company in the past and I hadn't heard great things. But, I hate my current job and really wanted to get out. I had put in applications at other places and hadn't heard anything. Nothing was panning out and this guy just randomly walks in and asks me if I'd want to work there. There was a part of me that wondered, "Was that some sort of sign?" Stuff like that just doesn't happen often. And jobs just are not easy to get around here. There's no where to work and the places that are decent aren't hiring because everyone is hanging on to those decent jobs.
But, then I remembered I can't for the afterlife of me differentiate between intended and incidental.
I got off work and walked into the store and the guy was there with an application for me. He even introduced me to his manager. She shook my hand and asked if I'd like to come in the next day for an interview. Whoa. Everything was going so fast. I kind of stumbled and then agreed.
From the time the guy asked me about joining him up to the interview, my stomach was in knots. I had heartburn the entire day because I was so worried about it. I wasn't too concerned with doing well during the interview but accepting a job offer if it was given to me. What should I do? Everything was happening faster than I could process. I had resigned myself to the fact that I would probably still be at the retail store for a long time and if and when I did leave, it would be on my own terms. Plus, I had hoped my next job would be free of the public. This wasn't free of the public. But, there was a hope of something better. Because I had so many questions, and reservations, about what was going on, I thought I might feel better about what I wanted to do after the interview.
As I was waiting to be interviewed, the guy who offered me a chance at the job came up to me and said, "She told me a lot of the interviewees were pretty low energy so try to pep it up, okay?" I thought that was pretty nice that he had told me that. I wondered if he was rooting for me specifically.
The interview went so well. I wouldn't have went back and changed a thing. I was charming, personable, made the lady laugh. We talked about the job, cell phones and computers, Apple vs. Droid, and even a bit of personal stuff. It lasted over two hours. I felt my chances were pretty good once I left but I still wasn't sure what I wanted to do. I didn't necessarily feel worse about it but I didn't feel better. I had hoped the interview would be the decision maker but I still felt just as hazy as ever.
My main concern is having to meet and exceed quotas. You get a commission, which is nice if you sell enough devices, new lines and accessories but if you miss the quota, you're given a warning, written up if you miss again and then fired if you miss a third time. So, when things are good, they are really good. When they are bad, you're canned. I wasn't sure I'd be able to handle that. They tried to make me feel better by saying no one hadn't made their goals and they helped each other out if anyone got behind but that's all good for them but I'm not a salesman. I don't like trying to get people to do or buy something they don't want to, even if I'm not being pushy, only persuasive. I still don't like it. Plus, I just don't want to deal with people.
One of the other iffy things she said was that I'd have to follow up with customers to see if they were satisfied with their phones and plans. I don't really want to invest that kind of time or energy into some stranger who I could care less about. I guess that's the point, though, to turn those strangers into clients who come back and come to me when they need to spend more money. Eh, I just don't care, though.
But what really freaks me out is the quotas. I have quotas at my current job but management is pretty relaxed about people meeting them. It's encouraged but not enforced so it's not really stressful. I just feel like, with my messed up mind and the way I worry about so many things, big and small, that I would constantly be stressed out trying to meet the quotas. I'm already a stressed out guy in general and my current job makes it worse but at least my job isn't in jeopardy. I have job security where I am now, even thought I hate it. They'll have me as long as I want to be there. So, why would I want to throw that away for a job that I might fail at miserably? For a (possibly) better work environment? For better pay? For commission? Is it worth it?
I just don't know.
If I were a normal person with any kind of confidence, I'm sure I wouldn't hesitate to take the job. It's way more money, which is important. But, what really matters? Money or madness? I just hate that my insecurities have crippled my life and my decisions. And because I tend to make the wrong decisions, I'm sure whatever I decide will be completely wrong.
Who knows, I might not even get it. I still have to go through a second interview. I almost think it would be easier if I didn't get it. At least I wouldn't have to make that agonizing decision on whether I should take the job or not. The decision would be made for me.
Friday, June 10, 2011
book notes #4
I decided to switch it up and begin working on my memoir instead of the novel I wrote for National Novel Writing Month. I can't seem to focus on one project and stick with it until it's finished, which is making me pretty crazy. I realized my free proof copy of my novel expires the 30th of this month so that motivated me to start writing again. The thing is there's no way I'll have it ready by that time so I thought I'd dust off the old memoir and see if I could finish that and use my free copy to print that out instead of the novel. As I was organizing the notes and chapters I had printed out, I realized how little I had accomplished over the past four-something years. I have about 92 chapters planned out (don't worry, each chapter is only a page or two) but I had only made it to chapter twelve. Four years for twelve chapters? Whoosh.
So, I started working on the memoir again and pumped through several chapters in a couple of days. I was making good progress. But as I looked over my source material, I was dismayed to find that a lot of what I wrote back then does not reflect how I feel about those certain topics today. That's not necessarily a bad thing as it has been many years ago and my opinion on certain things is bound to change, for better or worse. The bad part about it is that it's hard for me to tap into those feelings so that I can express them in writing. Because I don't really feel that way anymore, it's almost as if I'm reading a stranger's notes instead of my own. I almost feel as if I have to go backward and experience certain events again from that old perspective so I can accurately document my head and heart positions at the time. It's slowing the process down quite significantly and it's also hard to keep myself from injecting my new views in the mix.
I worry that once people read the book, they might get the impression that those feelings and beliefs and value systems are ones that I still hold today, thus misrepresenting me. I suppose it wouldn't be so horrible because I did feel these things at one time so it's not as if it's false but I also feel I've moved past those certain ways of thinking. Of course, they weren't necessarily bad ways of thinking. They were just different. But no matter what people will think of me, the book needs to be written. It's something that I think will haunt me until I can sort it all out and write it all down.
My last problem is I don't think I'll finish the memoir, either. At least, not in time to beat my free copy expiration. I don't want to pass up that free proof copy so I don't know what to do. Because I won't finish the memoir, I thought about switching back to the novel and just trying my best to polish it up before it was time to submit. Of course, it wouldn't be the final version. Just 'cause I had it printed doesn't mean the story would be set in stone. I also entertained the idea of not even touching it and just submitting it the way it is now, rough but ready. That way, I could say, "Hey, look what I accomplished in 30 days." Then, once I am ready to revise, I'll have a good foundation to start from.
Whatever I decide to do, I'm probably going to be pretty busy for the next month in preparation for printing. So, it's likely I won't write very much for the rest of this month. Or maybe I will. I guess it depends on how deeply something is affecting me.
I'm very excited to have a hard copy of my words. Even if it's just one illegitimate copy. I just need to experience that tactile tantalization.
So, I started working on the memoir again and pumped through several chapters in a couple of days. I was making good progress. But as I looked over my source material, I was dismayed to find that a lot of what I wrote back then does not reflect how I feel about those certain topics today. That's not necessarily a bad thing as it has been many years ago and my opinion on certain things is bound to change, for better or worse. The bad part about it is that it's hard for me to tap into those feelings so that I can express them in writing. Because I don't really feel that way anymore, it's almost as if I'm reading a stranger's notes instead of my own. I almost feel as if I have to go backward and experience certain events again from that old perspective so I can accurately document my head and heart positions at the time. It's slowing the process down quite significantly and it's also hard to keep myself from injecting my new views in the mix.
I worry that once people read the book, they might get the impression that those feelings and beliefs and value systems are ones that I still hold today, thus misrepresenting me. I suppose it wouldn't be so horrible because I did feel these things at one time so it's not as if it's false but I also feel I've moved past those certain ways of thinking. Of course, they weren't necessarily bad ways of thinking. They were just different. But no matter what people will think of me, the book needs to be written. It's something that I think will haunt me until I can sort it all out and write it all down.
My last problem is I don't think I'll finish the memoir, either. At least, not in time to beat my free copy expiration. I don't want to pass up that free proof copy so I don't know what to do. Because I won't finish the memoir, I thought about switching back to the novel and just trying my best to polish it up before it was time to submit. Of course, it wouldn't be the final version. Just 'cause I had it printed doesn't mean the story would be set in stone. I also entertained the idea of not even touching it and just submitting it the way it is now, rough but ready. That way, I could say, "Hey, look what I accomplished in 30 days." Then, once I am ready to revise, I'll have a good foundation to start from.
Whatever I decide to do, I'm probably going to be pretty busy for the next month in preparation for printing. So, it's likely I won't write very much for the rest of this month. Or maybe I will. I guess it depends on how deeply something is affecting me.
I'm very excited to have a hard copy of my words. Even if it's just one illegitimate copy. I just need to experience that tactile tantalization.
Saturday, June 4, 2011
christianitease
"I searched for God, No answer came
Just the victim of dying love
Take my sins away..."
-Aiden, ReEvolver
Sometimes, it feels like Christianity is nearly unattainable. One of the biggest goals in the religion is to be Christ-like, which includes being kind to everyone, including friends, neighbors, even your enemies. It's really all about being humble and showing love to everyone. And for me, someone who pretty much dislikes people as a whole, someone who doesn't believe in love anymore, this is problematic.
I don't want to act like I've seen the worst humanity has to offer because I know that is not the case but I have seen a lot of rude and disrespectful people in my time. Working in retail, I see it every single day. I know it might sound silly to develop an opinion on mankind based on discourteous customers but it really does add up over time. It all comes back to my paper cut concept, how small annoyances or missteps don't seem like a big deal when dealt with separately. It's only when it all builds up within you, stacking sickness upon setbacks until it swells into insanity. And in retail, you really see how selfish, rude, uneducated and unwashed people can be. It doesn't help that my fellow employees are just about as bad as the customers. And while one bad person can ruin my day, a collection of crass (and oftentimes crusty) customers can ruin my entire outlook. It would be different if I had a rude interaction every once in a while but it is all day, every day. I'm pretty sure that will wear on anyone after a while, no matter how cheerful they believe themselves to be.
Yet, God, and my employer, command that I be nice to these people, that I treat them with kindness and respect, although they ignore my greetings, destroy my perfectly folded shirts and berate me when they aren't given the type of discounts they believe they are entitled to. And I am nice in the face of their fury. But I don't like it. I wish I could call people out on their nasty behavior, put them in their place and even give them a good smack, something to rattle them out of their rudeness. But I can't and it probably wouldn't make a difference anyway. All of this is coming after a tragic time in college where my perceptions of people were originally shattered. Now, those broken perceptions are ground into my face daily.
It's hard to look an a-hole in the eye (no pun intended) and be generous. Yet, that's what we are supposed to do. But it's easier to be negative, to be rude and hateful and angry just like everyone else. It almost feels natural. And in a way, I suppose it is. We all fall short of the glory of God. We are all born sinners. It is who we are. As Christians, we are constantly told we are only worthy of hell and it is through God's grace that we are given the chance at heaven. So, we are forced to go against the ungrateful grain and be gracious instead. And through it all, Jesus promises to make it all better in another life. Your human life will most likely always suck but your heavenly soul will find peace.
It's kind of strange because you're told to spend your life denying yourself and loving your enemy and although you may not find this lifestyle easy, you're working toward something beyond yourself, something incomprehensible and amazing and yet we will never know how amazing it will be. That is, if we even earn our place in heaven. Sure, you can say a prayer and give it all to God but is that enough? We are never given a glimpse of that promised prize, never know if all our efforts will be worth it. We are only told if we don't abide by the rules, we will only suffer more in hell.
On Earth, barely any thing is black and white. Barely any one person is black and white. Good people do bad things and bad people sometimes show mercy. Yet, when it comes to your soul, it's pass or fail, stop or go, do or die. It seems a bit harsh, doesn't it? It's not even so much about being a good person as it is having a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. But, a part of that relationship is being a good person so I think it still does play a big part in acceptance into heaven. You can't be a curmudgeon Christian. And you can't be an amiable atheist (of course you can but as far as heaven goes, it doesn't help your chances).
I think it's easy to be a Christian when you don't face much adversity. I have an acquaintance who is a strong Christian but she's also had it easy her entire life. Obviously, she might have faced problems I'm not privy to but let's just say she has not. It's pretty easy to have faith when you don't have to struggle for it. And just to play devil's advocate (pun intended), I have another acquaintance who is a strong Christian but life has constantly crapped all over her. So, I suppose it is possible to keep the faith while failing at life. So, where does that leave me? Pretty sure that means I'm just a selfish jerk.
It all feels like this big tease. Life's cruelties are so easily dismissed as just the world we live in but God is waiting on the other side to sweep us up, dry our tears and set us in a warm bath called heaven. God is so good. God is so gracious. God is loving. God won't turn His back on the believers. Yet, I've never experienced any of that goodness firsthand. You could argue the fact that I'm not poor or out on the street as proof of God's goodness. And I can see how you'd say that. But what about free will? Free will is also a big part of Christianity. God loves us but if he forced us to love Him it wouldn't truly be love so He gave us the free will to choose or reject Him. So, what if everything good in my life was a product of free will, the choices of others, random chance? It seems pretty convenient that a lot of Christians pass off good fortune as God's blessing and misfortune as the consequences of free will. And I think it's a cop out.
Feeling God's existence is something I've struggled with my entire life. Even when I was at my Christian best, praying and reading/studying my Bible, going to church and sending out positive energy to the world, I always felt the same sadness scouring my insides as they always had. And I prayed for salvation every night. And although I went through the motions and tried to seek God sincerely, I never felt Him, never felt like He had entered my heart, never changed me. I've heard that because I might not feel God the way others do doesn't mean He's not with me. That's all nice and good but what if he's not with me? I can't go through my life on an assumption, especially when my very soul is at risk. I need some confirmation.
And then college happened and everything suddenly spiraled downward at an alarming pace. I kept God close. Maybe not close enough. I graduated and came back home to no job, no money and no friends. Some of the most important people in my life disappeared and I completely cracked under the weight of debt and failure, fell into an element of blank and died. And yet I prayed and asked for God's help. And, as always, nothing. Finally, I gave up because I felt like it was a waste of time. Of course, I understand God doesn't answer all prayers. I understand God's not going to drop gold on my doorstep. I understand that God will not make life perfect. Please, I'm not that delusional. Yet, I always hoped God would at least give me a sense of peace, a semblance of calm as a sign that everything would eventually work out. I wasn't asking for the world, just a word, a gesture of encouragement, a feeling of being full instead of that incessant emptiness that has plagued all of my years. I really just needed a "hey, you're gonna be okay, kid." And I couldn't even get that much.
I'm only complaining. I know that God still loves me. I know I'm being selfish. I know it's not His fault but mine. I know I'm probably not trying hard enough, being persistent enough or having enough faith. I can just hear all those stock Christian responses right now. And I'm not saying they are wrong. I'm just simply saying how I feel about things, how my life hasn't fit in with that Christian mold of prayers and peace. I'm just saying that it shouldn't feel like it's that hard to talk to God, to ask for some peace. Why does it feel like I'm constantly running through this obstacle course that continues to add pillars and pitfalls to postpone my progress?
At work, some people set up a church next door to my department. The company I work for is separated by the rest of the mall by a giant glass sliding door. Is it just me or is a mall a weird place to have a church? Not that there's anything wrong with that but I guess I just don't picture consumerism and Christianity jelling like that. Anyway, we always close the mall door on Sundays because no other store in the mall is open (except now for the church). During my most recent Sunday at work, I looked into the mall and saw the churchgoers outside, some going in, some coming out, others standing around and talking and smiling outside. A teenage girl was swinging a younger girl around with her hands. I could hear the muffled giggles. And as I looked through the glass, I thought it was an appropriate scene, quite literally reflecting my spiritual struggle. Here I was, miserable, put to work in a hopeless job and on the other side of me was that promise of peace, that vision of what I thought Christianity should look and feel like for me. There was happiness there. Community. And there was a wall that separated me from it. I could see it and hear it but I could not touch it.
I was closed off from it all.
Just the victim of dying love
Take my sins away..."
-Aiden, ReEvolver
Sometimes, it feels like Christianity is nearly unattainable. One of the biggest goals in the religion is to be Christ-like, which includes being kind to everyone, including friends, neighbors, even your enemies. It's really all about being humble and showing love to everyone. And for me, someone who pretty much dislikes people as a whole, someone who doesn't believe in love anymore, this is problematic.
I don't want to act like I've seen the worst humanity has to offer because I know that is not the case but I have seen a lot of rude and disrespectful people in my time. Working in retail, I see it every single day. I know it might sound silly to develop an opinion on mankind based on discourteous customers but it really does add up over time. It all comes back to my paper cut concept, how small annoyances or missteps don't seem like a big deal when dealt with separately. It's only when it all builds up within you, stacking sickness upon setbacks until it swells into insanity. And in retail, you really see how selfish, rude, uneducated and unwashed people can be. It doesn't help that my fellow employees are just about as bad as the customers. And while one bad person can ruin my day, a collection of crass (and oftentimes crusty) customers can ruin my entire outlook. It would be different if I had a rude interaction every once in a while but it is all day, every day. I'm pretty sure that will wear on anyone after a while, no matter how cheerful they believe themselves to be.
Yet, God, and my employer, command that I be nice to these people, that I treat them with kindness and respect, although they ignore my greetings, destroy my perfectly folded shirts and berate me when they aren't given the type of discounts they believe they are entitled to. And I am nice in the face of their fury. But I don't like it. I wish I could call people out on their nasty behavior, put them in their place and even give them a good smack, something to rattle them out of their rudeness. But I can't and it probably wouldn't make a difference anyway. All of this is coming after a tragic time in college where my perceptions of people were originally shattered. Now, those broken perceptions are ground into my face daily.
It's hard to look an a-hole in the eye (no pun intended) and be generous. Yet, that's what we are supposed to do. But it's easier to be negative, to be rude and hateful and angry just like everyone else. It almost feels natural. And in a way, I suppose it is. We all fall short of the glory of God. We are all born sinners. It is who we are. As Christians, we are constantly told we are only worthy of hell and it is through God's grace that we are given the chance at heaven. So, we are forced to go against the ungrateful grain and be gracious instead. And through it all, Jesus promises to make it all better in another life. Your human life will most likely always suck but your heavenly soul will find peace.
It's kind of strange because you're told to spend your life denying yourself and loving your enemy and although you may not find this lifestyle easy, you're working toward something beyond yourself, something incomprehensible and amazing and yet we will never know how amazing it will be. That is, if we even earn our place in heaven. Sure, you can say a prayer and give it all to God but is that enough? We are never given a glimpse of that promised prize, never know if all our efforts will be worth it. We are only told if we don't abide by the rules, we will only suffer more in hell.
On Earth, barely any thing is black and white. Barely any one person is black and white. Good people do bad things and bad people sometimes show mercy. Yet, when it comes to your soul, it's pass or fail, stop or go, do or die. It seems a bit harsh, doesn't it? It's not even so much about being a good person as it is having a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. But, a part of that relationship is being a good person so I think it still does play a big part in acceptance into heaven. You can't be a curmudgeon Christian. And you can't be an amiable atheist (of course you can but as far as heaven goes, it doesn't help your chances).
I think it's easy to be a Christian when you don't face much adversity. I have an acquaintance who is a strong Christian but she's also had it easy her entire life. Obviously, she might have faced problems I'm not privy to but let's just say she has not. It's pretty easy to have faith when you don't have to struggle for it. And just to play devil's advocate (pun intended), I have another acquaintance who is a strong Christian but life has constantly crapped all over her. So, I suppose it is possible to keep the faith while failing at life. So, where does that leave me? Pretty sure that means I'm just a selfish jerk.
It all feels like this big tease. Life's cruelties are so easily dismissed as just the world we live in but God is waiting on the other side to sweep us up, dry our tears and set us in a warm bath called heaven. God is so good. God is so gracious. God is loving. God won't turn His back on the believers. Yet, I've never experienced any of that goodness firsthand. You could argue the fact that I'm not poor or out on the street as proof of God's goodness. And I can see how you'd say that. But what about free will? Free will is also a big part of Christianity. God loves us but if he forced us to love Him it wouldn't truly be love so He gave us the free will to choose or reject Him. So, what if everything good in my life was a product of free will, the choices of others, random chance? It seems pretty convenient that a lot of Christians pass off good fortune as God's blessing and misfortune as the consequences of free will. And I think it's a cop out.
Feeling God's existence is something I've struggled with my entire life. Even when I was at my Christian best, praying and reading/studying my Bible, going to church and sending out positive energy to the world, I always felt the same sadness scouring my insides as they always had. And I prayed for salvation every night. And although I went through the motions and tried to seek God sincerely, I never felt Him, never felt like He had entered my heart, never changed me. I've heard that because I might not feel God the way others do doesn't mean He's not with me. That's all nice and good but what if he's not with me? I can't go through my life on an assumption, especially when my very soul is at risk. I need some confirmation.
And then college happened and everything suddenly spiraled downward at an alarming pace. I kept God close. Maybe not close enough. I graduated and came back home to no job, no money and no friends. Some of the most important people in my life disappeared and I completely cracked under the weight of debt and failure, fell into an element of blank and died. And yet I prayed and asked for God's help. And, as always, nothing. Finally, I gave up because I felt like it was a waste of time. Of course, I understand God doesn't answer all prayers. I understand God's not going to drop gold on my doorstep. I understand that God will not make life perfect. Please, I'm not that delusional. Yet, I always hoped God would at least give me a sense of peace, a semblance of calm as a sign that everything would eventually work out. I wasn't asking for the world, just a word, a gesture of encouragement, a feeling of being full instead of that incessant emptiness that has plagued all of my years. I really just needed a "hey, you're gonna be okay, kid." And I couldn't even get that much.
I'm only complaining. I know that God still loves me. I know I'm being selfish. I know it's not His fault but mine. I know I'm probably not trying hard enough, being persistent enough or having enough faith. I can just hear all those stock Christian responses right now. And I'm not saying they are wrong. I'm just simply saying how I feel about things, how my life hasn't fit in with that Christian mold of prayers and peace. I'm just saying that it shouldn't feel like it's that hard to talk to God, to ask for some peace. Why does it feel like I'm constantly running through this obstacle course that continues to add pillars and pitfalls to postpone my progress?
At work, some people set up a church next door to my department. The company I work for is separated by the rest of the mall by a giant glass sliding door. Is it just me or is a mall a weird place to have a church? Not that there's anything wrong with that but I guess I just don't picture consumerism and Christianity jelling like that. Anyway, we always close the mall door on Sundays because no other store in the mall is open (except now for the church). During my most recent Sunday at work, I looked into the mall and saw the churchgoers outside, some going in, some coming out, others standing around and talking and smiling outside. A teenage girl was swinging a younger girl around with her hands. I could hear the muffled giggles. And as I looked through the glass, I thought it was an appropriate scene, quite literally reflecting my spiritual struggle. Here I was, miserable, put to work in a hopeless job and on the other side of me was that promise of peace, that vision of what I thought Christianity should look and feel like for me. There was happiness there. Community. And there was a wall that separated me from it. I could see it and hear it but I could not touch it.
I was closed off from it all.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
shift
The longer I go without writing, the more my thoughts pile up in my head until I literally feel weighed down with worry. The worst part is once I try to write some of what I'm feeling, everything is too tangled up to pull apart and put down. It feels weird to go so long without writing, like I'm missing something from my routine, like I'm missing something from myself. It's like not brushing my teeth for a week and then discovering I had no hand to do it with in the first place.
I feel like I've been busy although I'm not sure if it's legitimate business. I've been reading a lot lately. I even managed to tackle two books at once at one point, which is a pretty big accomplishment for me because I can't really multi-task when reading. I'm a one book kind of guy, most of the time. If I'm not, some of the characters start book jumping, along with situations, until I'm utterly confused, unable to tell one story from the other. Plus, I can't read more than a few chapters of any book, no matter how interesting, without falling asleep. You'd think this would be a good night-time routine but it doesn't necessarily work that way. It only seems to happen in the middle of the day. I'm on my bed reading and suddenly I'll wake up two hours on top of a drool-stained page. People don't like to share their books with me.
I've also been trying to exercise more. It's horrible I tell you. I hate exercising and I always have. Even when I was at my thinnest, I hated what I had to do to be that size. I never felt those endorphins and never had more energy afterward. And it sucks because I have to be incredibly consistent. If I take one day off, it makes it all the harder to get going again the next day. But, I've been trying and that's the first step. I've collected quite the selection of exercise programs over the years and so I should have a good variety of workout routines to choose from without getting bored. Right now I'm doing one of those walk five miles in your living room workouts. It's pretty easy, which is a good thing. I don't want to get too burned out too quickly.
The only other problem is my diet. It's funny how I can do really well with dieting and then never exercise or be really good at exercising and then eat garbage. I can't seem to find a good balance of both. I know a big part of it is because my head and my heart just aren't in it. I think at this point it's just easier for me to wallow in my sadness, to allow myself to be a slave to my gluttonous desires. I can't seem to get my mind to focus on the larger picture, to realize that these small sacrifices should pay off in a big way later on. I guess I'm so miserable that today is the big picture, that I am just barely scraping by, am just trying to get through one day at a time. Kind of sad.
I feel I've been going through these turbulent shifts in awareness and ignorance lately. All my shattered convictions come back from time to time, taped up and tender but ready to be received. And I say, "Yes, I think I can believe in this again" but it never lasts too long. Some days I feel God is good and other times I think He doesn't care and sometimes I struggle with whether He exists at all. Some times I feel something good happening inside of me, as if my heart is showing signs of life again. It shifts around inside me, hoping to find a comfortable place to beat and grow but those moments are fleeting. I feel like I want to love but it seems so hard, so incomprehensible to my screwed up mind. Maybe all I really want is a connection.
I still struggle with being an ex-vegetarian. I've managed to make it a few days at a time without thinking about the harm I'm doing but it still comes up often. It's weird because it seems like I shouldn't make such a big deal about it. I think one of the reasons why it is is because it deals with food, which has always been a big deal and the other reason is when I found my Christianity crumbling, vegetarianism was almost like a substitute for me. It was something to believe in, something I could feel good about being involved in. It was comforting in some ways, made me feel like I belonged to something, that I was doing something for the greater good. If my views on food weren't so screwed up, and if I wasn't so fat and vain, I'd probably go back.
Am I the only one who feels haunted by people? And I don't mean former lovers. I mean just everyday people that come and go from your life. It's not that these people weren't special to me but it's not like I had this incredibly deep connection with them. Okay, maybe some of them I did but I can't seem to let them go or allow their memory to leave me in peace. I still think about my rude ex-roommate and all the girls who left me for other guys (or other girls). I always wonder what I did, what I said to make them just not care anymore. And I wonder if they even realize the profound effect they've had on me, how they've shaped the way I see people and why they are the reason I don't think love can work with me. All because they simply cut me off, these people that I thought would never leave me, people I thought were in my life like oxygen. But they are the reason I don't breathe.
I used to be one of those people who never understood others who swore off love because of a few bad relationships. "How dumb," I'd say. "Just because one or two people hurt you doesn't mean you should close off all potential love in the future." But, now I think I get it a little bit better. Sometimes it's a deliberate attempt at shielding yourself and other times it's just a subconscious bout of self-preservation. And as for me, I don't feel so much like I'm trying to protect myself as much as I just feel too exhausted to deal with it all, the way people can be so flaky and moody, the back and forth of jokes and jeers, the constant dance of building up and tearing down each other. Uh, human interactions. How do you all do it?
I think the only love I have left is in my imagination. In fact, I'm falling in love with a fantasy that will never actually happen. And you know what? I'm okay with it. I don't know whether that is comforting or devastating.
I feel like I've been busy although I'm not sure if it's legitimate business. I've been reading a lot lately. I even managed to tackle two books at once at one point, which is a pretty big accomplishment for me because I can't really multi-task when reading. I'm a one book kind of guy, most of the time. If I'm not, some of the characters start book jumping, along with situations, until I'm utterly confused, unable to tell one story from the other. Plus, I can't read more than a few chapters of any book, no matter how interesting, without falling asleep. You'd think this would be a good night-time routine but it doesn't necessarily work that way. It only seems to happen in the middle of the day. I'm on my bed reading and suddenly I'll wake up two hours on top of a drool-stained page. People don't like to share their books with me.
I've also been trying to exercise more. It's horrible I tell you. I hate exercising and I always have. Even when I was at my thinnest, I hated what I had to do to be that size. I never felt those endorphins and never had more energy afterward. And it sucks because I have to be incredibly consistent. If I take one day off, it makes it all the harder to get going again the next day. But, I've been trying and that's the first step. I've collected quite the selection of exercise programs over the years and so I should have a good variety of workout routines to choose from without getting bored. Right now I'm doing one of those walk five miles in your living room workouts. It's pretty easy, which is a good thing. I don't want to get too burned out too quickly.
The only other problem is my diet. It's funny how I can do really well with dieting and then never exercise or be really good at exercising and then eat garbage. I can't seem to find a good balance of both. I know a big part of it is because my head and my heart just aren't in it. I think at this point it's just easier for me to wallow in my sadness, to allow myself to be a slave to my gluttonous desires. I can't seem to get my mind to focus on the larger picture, to realize that these small sacrifices should pay off in a big way later on. I guess I'm so miserable that today is the big picture, that I am just barely scraping by, am just trying to get through one day at a time. Kind of sad.
I feel I've been going through these turbulent shifts in awareness and ignorance lately. All my shattered convictions come back from time to time, taped up and tender but ready to be received. And I say, "Yes, I think I can believe in this again" but it never lasts too long. Some days I feel God is good and other times I think He doesn't care and sometimes I struggle with whether He exists at all. Some times I feel something good happening inside of me, as if my heart is showing signs of life again. It shifts around inside me, hoping to find a comfortable place to beat and grow but those moments are fleeting. I feel like I want to love but it seems so hard, so incomprehensible to my screwed up mind. Maybe all I really want is a connection.
I still struggle with being an ex-vegetarian. I've managed to make it a few days at a time without thinking about the harm I'm doing but it still comes up often. It's weird because it seems like I shouldn't make such a big deal about it. I think one of the reasons why it is is because it deals with food, which has always been a big deal and the other reason is when I found my Christianity crumbling, vegetarianism was almost like a substitute for me. It was something to believe in, something I could feel good about being involved in. It was comforting in some ways, made me feel like I belonged to something, that I was doing something for the greater good. If my views on food weren't so screwed up, and if I wasn't so fat and vain, I'd probably go back.
Am I the only one who feels haunted by people? And I don't mean former lovers. I mean just everyday people that come and go from your life. It's not that these people weren't special to me but it's not like I had this incredibly deep connection with them. Okay, maybe some of them I did but I can't seem to let them go or allow their memory to leave me in peace. I still think about my rude ex-roommate and all the girls who left me for other guys (or other girls). I always wonder what I did, what I said to make them just not care anymore. And I wonder if they even realize the profound effect they've had on me, how they've shaped the way I see people and why they are the reason I don't think love can work with me. All because they simply cut me off, these people that I thought would never leave me, people I thought were in my life like oxygen. But they are the reason I don't breathe.
I used to be one of those people who never understood others who swore off love because of a few bad relationships. "How dumb," I'd say. "Just because one or two people hurt you doesn't mean you should close off all potential love in the future." But, now I think I get it a little bit better. Sometimes it's a deliberate attempt at shielding yourself and other times it's just a subconscious bout of self-preservation. And as for me, I don't feel so much like I'm trying to protect myself as much as I just feel too exhausted to deal with it all, the way people can be so flaky and moody, the back and forth of jokes and jeers, the constant dance of building up and tearing down each other. Uh, human interactions. How do you all do it?
I think the only love I have left is in my imagination. In fact, I'm falling in love with a fantasy that will never actually happen. And you know what? I'm okay with it. I don't know whether that is comforting or devastating.
Sunday, May 8, 2011
ana-sthetic
Raising my shirt above my nipples, I inspected my torso in the bathroom lights. Seeing the swooping shadows slice across my skin always made me smile. It meant progress. It meant the fat was melting away and allowing my ribs to show through the pallid skin.
Every morning, after peeing, I'd raise my shirt and check on my shrinking frame. It felt good to see those ribs. It didn't feel good to diet or exercise but it was nice when my pants fit, when my chest was flatter, when I could run my hand down my stomach to smooth out my shirt and could feel the cool metal of my belt buckle without the lump of fat resting on top.
It was a struggle to not eat my favorite foods, denying myself sweets, getting up and exercising, waiting, wondering when that promised energy was going to kick in. It was difficult, frustrating and exhausting. Yet, the presence of the bones helped me get through another hungry day. I loved food but I loved the feeling of being thinner as well. I think, although I love food and thinness equally, I disliked myself, thus the food always won out. Because I didn't like myself, I didn't take care of myself, didn't discipline myself, let myself go in more ways than just the physical.
One of the reasons I was able to lose weight was because I felt I was doing it for something. I had a goal, some kind of image in my head of what I wanted to look like and how it would benefit me. When I was in high school, I always had a fantasy that I would transform myself over the summer and come back and be different, thinner, better. I didn't want to be known only as the fat could who could draw. I wanted my peers to see me in a way they hadn't before, see me as someone who was desirable, handsome. Approachable. And the summer before my senior year, I did it. And I was noticed. And it felt good. But, I still had a long way to go.
Community college rolled around and I began to look to the future once more. I knew where I wanted to pursue further education and I once again went on a diet and exercise kick, losing more weight than I did in high school and becoming the thinnest I had ever been in ten or so years. I did it because I was preparing myself for real college, preparing myself for people and projects. I knew college would be such a huge transition filled with enough pressures and I didn't want my physical appearance to be a hindrance to the large amounts of socializing I was planning on doing.
I was thin and felt good by the time I got to SCAD. I slipped up during the first quarter, falling victim to the clichéd freshmen fifteen but I was back on track after winter break. I kept myself accountable and started vlogging about my weight loss and checked my ribs every morning in the mirror. I weighed myself every week. I went to the gym with my roommates. I had class and three different projects to work on at any given time so there wasn't much time to eat. There was even a time when I severely restricted my food intake. I didn't exactly starve myself but I was pretty close to it. It didn't disturb me, though, because I felt good at the end of the day. Yeah, I was hungry and tired but I felt I had finally managed some kind of mental control over myself.
And then I graduated and came back home and let myself go again. With Mom's Southern cooking and no more classes or a job, I sat at home and managed to undo all the years of hard work, slowly swelling back to my high school hugeness.
Of course, it wasn't apparent to me how large I was getting as I sat around all day in elastic sleep pants. It only became obvious when I tried to actually go out and do something and put on jeans and couldn't button them. How could I get so big so fast without even noticing? I stopped vlogging, stopped weighing, stopped lifting my shirt in front of the mirror. I lost all accountability. I also discovered Ben & Jerry's brownie cheesecake ice cream, so that didn't help matters.
I've lost and gained weight so many times now that it all seems like this large smear in my memory. I can't differentiate days from doughnuts. And I find myself at the bottom, yet again, looking up that long ladder of weight loss and wondering if I can make that climb one more time. I'm not sure if I can.
Of course, not having a job wasn't the reason why I gained the weight back. Well, not directly. I mean, it was the reason I gained weight but not because I was bored. It was because I was depressed. College turned out to be a giant wreck of three years. And with no job and all that time to reflect on my tumultuous time there, I ate to cope. Despite all efforts over the years to control my eating habits and exercise regularly, I never learned to eat for nutrition instead of filling a void. When it came to food, I suppressed the physical act of eating and completely ignored the emotional baggage that made me binge.
And for months now I've been saying I'm going to lose the weight again, that I'm going to go through that arduous weight loss journey once more. But, I haven't because I know it's hard. I've been there before and knowing how difficult it is makes it all the harder to get started. It's difficult to learn how to deal with my feelings through methods other than food. Nothing I've tried seems as satisfying. Admittedly, I haven't tried very hard.
But you know what's not hard? Pizza, pasta, cookies, sweet stuff. Cheese. Bread. Starches and carbs. It's comforting. It's my anesthetic against the everyday external conflicts and incessant internal torture. And I know it's temporary and ultimately more damaging but sometimes I'm so hurt and angry that I just want to stop the pain in that moment and I don't care how I do it. Fix it now, figure it out later. Just stop the pain. Just get rid of the sadness. I'll deal with the consequences another time. But, I don't. I deal with the consequences with more food. With inactivity. With hating myself just a little bit more. Instead of wanting to put out the pain, I should have just sucked it up and dealt with it. I guess a little hurt never killed anyone but what if you're already dead? I think it hits me harder. I also think I'm incredibly weak and give in to way too much way too soon.
I need something else. I need someone to care. I need to care about myself. I need to know that I am worth working on. That I am not stuck in mediocrity. I need to climb out of my festering funk. It's easy to fall, to let your problems snowball, to just go with gravity. It's hard to stop mid-fall. It's as simple as catching yourself but when you don't have any hands or feet you just continue to tumble.
I'd like to one day be able to see my ribs again. Not break them with bad habits.
Every morning, after peeing, I'd raise my shirt and check on my shrinking frame. It felt good to see those ribs. It didn't feel good to diet or exercise but it was nice when my pants fit, when my chest was flatter, when I could run my hand down my stomach to smooth out my shirt and could feel the cool metal of my belt buckle without the lump of fat resting on top.
It was a struggle to not eat my favorite foods, denying myself sweets, getting up and exercising, waiting, wondering when that promised energy was going to kick in. It was difficult, frustrating and exhausting. Yet, the presence of the bones helped me get through another hungry day. I loved food but I loved the feeling of being thinner as well. I think, although I love food and thinness equally, I disliked myself, thus the food always won out. Because I didn't like myself, I didn't take care of myself, didn't discipline myself, let myself go in more ways than just the physical.
One of the reasons I was able to lose weight was because I felt I was doing it for something. I had a goal, some kind of image in my head of what I wanted to look like and how it would benefit me. When I was in high school, I always had a fantasy that I would transform myself over the summer and come back and be different, thinner, better. I didn't want to be known only as the fat could who could draw. I wanted my peers to see me in a way they hadn't before, see me as someone who was desirable, handsome. Approachable. And the summer before my senior year, I did it. And I was noticed. And it felt good. But, I still had a long way to go.
Community college rolled around and I began to look to the future once more. I knew where I wanted to pursue further education and I once again went on a diet and exercise kick, losing more weight than I did in high school and becoming the thinnest I had ever been in ten or so years. I did it because I was preparing myself for real college, preparing myself for people and projects. I knew college would be such a huge transition filled with enough pressures and I didn't want my physical appearance to be a hindrance to the large amounts of socializing I was planning on doing.
I was thin and felt good by the time I got to SCAD. I slipped up during the first quarter, falling victim to the clichéd freshmen fifteen but I was back on track after winter break. I kept myself accountable and started vlogging about my weight loss and checked my ribs every morning in the mirror. I weighed myself every week. I went to the gym with my roommates. I had class and three different projects to work on at any given time so there wasn't much time to eat. There was even a time when I severely restricted my food intake. I didn't exactly starve myself but I was pretty close to it. It didn't disturb me, though, because I felt good at the end of the day. Yeah, I was hungry and tired but I felt I had finally managed some kind of mental control over myself.
And then I graduated and came back home and let myself go again. With Mom's Southern cooking and no more classes or a job, I sat at home and managed to undo all the years of hard work, slowly swelling back to my high school hugeness.
Of course, it wasn't apparent to me how large I was getting as I sat around all day in elastic sleep pants. It only became obvious when I tried to actually go out and do something and put on jeans and couldn't button them. How could I get so big so fast without even noticing? I stopped vlogging, stopped weighing, stopped lifting my shirt in front of the mirror. I lost all accountability. I also discovered Ben & Jerry's brownie cheesecake ice cream, so that didn't help matters.
I've lost and gained weight so many times now that it all seems like this large smear in my memory. I can't differentiate days from doughnuts. And I find myself at the bottom, yet again, looking up that long ladder of weight loss and wondering if I can make that climb one more time. I'm not sure if I can.
Of course, not having a job wasn't the reason why I gained the weight back. Well, not directly. I mean, it was the reason I gained weight but not because I was bored. It was because I was depressed. College turned out to be a giant wreck of three years. And with no job and all that time to reflect on my tumultuous time there, I ate to cope. Despite all efforts over the years to control my eating habits and exercise regularly, I never learned to eat for nutrition instead of filling a void. When it came to food, I suppressed the physical act of eating and completely ignored the emotional baggage that made me binge.
And for months now I've been saying I'm going to lose the weight again, that I'm going to go through that arduous weight loss journey once more. But, I haven't because I know it's hard. I've been there before and knowing how difficult it is makes it all the harder to get started. It's difficult to learn how to deal with my feelings through methods other than food. Nothing I've tried seems as satisfying. Admittedly, I haven't tried very hard.
But you know what's not hard? Pizza, pasta, cookies, sweet stuff. Cheese. Bread. Starches and carbs. It's comforting. It's my anesthetic against the everyday external conflicts and incessant internal torture. And I know it's temporary and ultimately more damaging but sometimes I'm so hurt and angry that I just want to stop the pain in that moment and I don't care how I do it. Fix it now, figure it out later. Just stop the pain. Just get rid of the sadness. I'll deal with the consequences another time. But, I don't. I deal with the consequences with more food. With inactivity. With hating myself just a little bit more. Instead of wanting to put out the pain, I should have just sucked it up and dealt with it. I guess a little hurt never killed anyone but what if you're already dead? I think it hits me harder. I also think I'm incredibly weak and give in to way too much way too soon.
I need something else. I need someone to care. I need to care about myself. I need to know that I am worth working on. That I am not stuck in mediocrity. I need to climb out of my festering funk. It's easy to fall, to let your problems snowball, to just go with gravity. It's hard to stop mid-fall. It's as simple as catching yourself but when you don't have any hands or feet you just continue to tumble.
I'd like to one day be able to see my ribs again. Not break them with bad habits.
Monday, May 2, 2011
water cooler crumbling
As if work doesn't suck enough, all the good people are leaving and moving on to better jobs. Some of the bad people are, too.
One of my favorite coworkers called me last Sunday and told me she's turned in her notice. She found a job pertaining to her degree so it's definitely a good thing. For her. I mean, I do want to be happy for her and the grain of non-selfishness within me is happy for her but it sucks that I'll be losing someone I enjoy working with. So many people who work there are negative and manipulative and she wasn't about any of that. She clocked in, did her job, no b.s., and left. She was also just a good girl in general. And I'll probably never see her again.
It seems the trend with me and girls is they'll communicate with me for as long as we are placed in a certain situation together, such as work or school. I met a lot of great girls in college and as soon as our classes together were over, I didn't hear much from them again. Same with when they'd get a boyfriend/husband. The husband thing I can understand a bit more but it just kind of sucks because I always think we have a good thing going and then I find out it wasn't good enough for them to hold on to me.
On the other end of the coworker spectrum, one of my least favorite coworkers also found a job. Once again, I'm conflicted. As much as I should be happy to be rid of her (and believe me, it is a relief), the circumstances surrounding her departure are less than savory. Not only was she one of the most worthless employees I've ever had the misfortune of encountering, she also wasn't that great of a person. Well, she comes bouncing into work one day saying she found a manager position at another job. After I shat myself, the jealousy kicked in. She obviously lied during her interview. Like, I'm not joking when I say she was a raging loser at her job. Even the managers knew she was useless and expressed that often. So, for her to get a manager position at another job over me is a real kick in the nuts.
It's not even so much that she got a better job than me but that she just isn't deserving of one and I feel like I am. I work my butt off everyday and it's thankless and exhausting and stagnant. Where's my opportunity to grow, to gain new experience and a raise? I know I'm sounding bratty and selfish and that life isn't fair. I've heard it a million times but it still sucks and I just have to express how I feel about it. It's hard enough filling out application after application and getting my hopes up that this will finally be the chance to break away from retail hell and then I never hear anything not even an interview, and yet this chick who never did anything and never had any responsibilities (because no one trusted her) weasels her way through and now she's happy and I have to witness it. Heck, I've gotten associate of the month twice and associate of the year and I've only been there eight months. That's got to say something about my work ethic but I guess no one seems to see that.
And she will be replaced by more mediocre workers. And my favorite coworker will be as well because quality people like her don't stay here in this area. They move on to bigger and better things as soon as they can. The rest is just trash and our company sweeps them right into the doors, slaps a name badge on them and let's them loose on the public. And I guess that makes me a little trashy, too, since I'm also here. Although I did try. I did to to college. Even did well at it. But grades don't matter when it's content and creativity employers want to see. Things I don't possess anymore. But, I gave it a good shot. So maybe I'm not so much trashy as just a little bit unpolished.
I see so many high school and college students treat the job like it's unimportant. And maybe to them it is. It's even unimportant to me but I don't treat it like that. Yeah, I hate this job but I also have a responsibility to do a good job. People rely on me. And I try to do every job to the best of my ability, no matter how invested I may or may not be in it. But these kids just swoop through and don't take it seriously and it's frustrating because I have to pick up their slack but I'm also quite jealous because they can be so laid back about it all. For them, this job is just pocket money until they go to college or until they finish college and get a good job. It doesn't matter if they don't do a great job because they don't plan on being there too long anyway. I don't have that luxury. I have student loans. I have other bills. And I can't screw around and risk losing my job. I can't be care-free. I was raised to take jobs seriously so it does come natural to me but I also don't have a choice like the rest of them.
Size, straighten, colorize. Watch as customers destroy a stack of shirts. Clean up after them. Watch it happen again. Ask every customer if they want to fill out for a credit card. Ask them for their e-mail address at the end of the transaction. Ask them for their zip code. Tell them about our survey and beg them to rate us a five so the district manager will be happy. Offer to order something for them if they can't find it in the store. Even if they do find it in the store, mention we can order anything in the store in multiple sizes and colors anyway (and when we do try to order something for them, it is usually out of stock online as well as in the store). Size, straighten, colorize again. Watch as more customers ruin an hour of straightening in three minutes. Check fitting rooms every thirty minutes. Get change for coworkers. Size. Greet every customer in your department. Create conversation with them. Straighten. Just offer. Colorize. Help the other departments straighten their stuff. Call a manager for help if you have more than three people in line. They show up ten minutes later after you've checked everyone out and squeezed as much personal information from them as possible. Offer them magazine subscriptions at the end of the transaction. On their receipt, highlight how much they've saved. Colorize again. Straighten again. Measure clueless people for dress shirts. Watch as they unpin and unbutton dress shirt after dress shirt, try them on, decide they don't want them. Fold and pin them back. Straighten. Don't forget to greet and smile. Return clothes even if they reek of smoke or are stained. Return even if their receipt is expired or they don't have one. Return anything because the customer cannot be unhappy. Show them it is okay to be irresponsible as we'll take care of them anyway. Be nice to them and show them they can take advantage of us and knock down a stack of shirts because no one will stop them. And the new thing is we are encouraged to say, "It was a pleasure serving you today." Some higher up got that trick from Chick-fil-A because customers were apparently more satisfied when they were told it was a pleasure to be served. As if putting up with their crap wasn't demeaning enough, we know have to let them know how much of a pleasure it was to endure their halitosis and ignorance. Gosh, the company is taking tips from a fast food joint now. We're doing so well. Size again. Straighten again. Put up with bad attitudes and body odor. Feel like crying. Feel like screaming. Feel like killing. Go home. Do it again the next day. And somewhere in there, try not to lose your mind. Good luck with that.
And now, I don't even have anyone good to work with anymore. So, it's just going to get worse.
One of my favorite coworkers called me last Sunday and told me she's turned in her notice. She found a job pertaining to her degree so it's definitely a good thing. For her. I mean, I do want to be happy for her and the grain of non-selfishness within me is happy for her but it sucks that I'll be losing someone I enjoy working with. So many people who work there are negative and manipulative and she wasn't about any of that. She clocked in, did her job, no b.s., and left. She was also just a good girl in general. And I'll probably never see her again.
It seems the trend with me and girls is they'll communicate with me for as long as we are placed in a certain situation together, such as work or school. I met a lot of great girls in college and as soon as our classes together were over, I didn't hear much from them again. Same with when they'd get a boyfriend/husband. The husband thing I can understand a bit more but it just kind of sucks because I always think we have a good thing going and then I find out it wasn't good enough for them to hold on to me.
On the other end of the coworker spectrum, one of my least favorite coworkers also found a job. Once again, I'm conflicted. As much as I should be happy to be rid of her (and believe me, it is a relief), the circumstances surrounding her departure are less than savory. Not only was she one of the most worthless employees I've ever had the misfortune of encountering, she also wasn't that great of a person. Well, she comes bouncing into work one day saying she found a manager position at another job. After I shat myself, the jealousy kicked in. She obviously lied during her interview. Like, I'm not joking when I say she was a raging loser at her job. Even the managers knew she was useless and expressed that often. So, for her to get a manager position at another job over me is a real kick in the nuts.
It's not even so much that she got a better job than me but that she just isn't deserving of one and I feel like I am. I work my butt off everyday and it's thankless and exhausting and stagnant. Where's my opportunity to grow, to gain new experience and a raise? I know I'm sounding bratty and selfish and that life isn't fair. I've heard it a million times but it still sucks and I just have to express how I feel about it. It's hard enough filling out application after application and getting my hopes up that this will finally be the chance to break away from retail hell and then I never hear anything not even an interview, and yet this chick who never did anything and never had any responsibilities (because no one trusted her) weasels her way through and now she's happy and I have to witness it. Heck, I've gotten associate of the month twice and associate of the year and I've only been there eight months. That's got to say something about my work ethic but I guess no one seems to see that.
And she will be replaced by more mediocre workers. And my favorite coworker will be as well because quality people like her don't stay here in this area. They move on to bigger and better things as soon as they can. The rest is just trash and our company sweeps them right into the doors, slaps a name badge on them and let's them loose on the public. And I guess that makes me a little trashy, too, since I'm also here. Although I did try. I did to to college. Even did well at it. But grades don't matter when it's content and creativity employers want to see. Things I don't possess anymore. But, I gave it a good shot. So maybe I'm not so much trashy as just a little bit unpolished.
I see so many high school and college students treat the job like it's unimportant. And maybe to them it is. It's even unimportant to me but I don't treat it like that. Yeah, I hate this job but I also have a responsibility to do a good job. People rely on me. And I try to do every job to the best of my ability, no matter how invested I may or may not be in it. But these kids just swoop through and don't take it seriously and it's frustrating because I have to pick up their slack but I'm also quite jealous because they can be so laid back about it all. For them, this job is just pocket money until they go to college or until they finish college and get a good job. It doesn't matter if they don't do a great job because they don't plan on being there too long anyway. I don't have that luxury. I have student loans. I have other bills. And I can't screw around and risk losing my job. I can't be care-free. I was raised to take jobs seriously so it does come natural to me but I also don't have a choice like the rest of them.
Size, straighten, colorize. Watch as customers destroy a stack of shirts. Clean up after them. Watch it happen again. Ask every customer if they want to fill out for a credit card. Ask them for their e-mail address at the end of the transaction. Ask them for their zip code. Tell them about our survey and beg them to rate us a five so the district manager will be happy. Offer to order something for them if they can't find it in the store. Even if they do find it in the store, mention we can order anything in the store in multiple sizes and colors anyway (and when we do try to order something for them, it is usually out of stock online as well as in the store). Size, straighten, colorize again. Watch as more customers ruin an hour of straightening in three minutes. Check fitting rooms every thirty minutes. Get change for coworkers. Size. Greet every customer in your department. Create conversation with them. Straighten. Just offer. Colorize. Help the other departments straighten their stuff. Call a manager for help if you have more than three people in line. They show up ten minutes later after you've checked everyone out and squeezed as much personal information from them as possible. Offer them magazine subscriptions at the end of the transaction. On their receipt, highlight how much they've saved. Colorize again. Straighten again. Measure clueless people for dress shirts. Watch as they unpin and unbutton dress shirt after dress shirt, try them on, decide they don't want them. Fold and pin them back. Straighten. Don't forget to greet and smile. Return clothes even if they reek of smoke or are stained. Return even if their receipt is expired or they don't have one. Return anything because the customer cannot be unhappy. Show them it is okay to be irresponsible as we'll take care of them anyway. Be nice to them and show them they can take advantage of us and knock down a stack of shirts because no one will stop them. And the new thing is we are encouraged to say, "It was a pleasure serving you today." Some higher up got that trick from Chick-fil-A because customers were apparently more satisfied when they were told it was a pleasure to be served. As if putting up with their crap wasn't demeaning enough, we know have to let them know how much of a pleasure it was to endure their halitosis and ignorance. Gosh, the company is taking tips from a fast food joint now. We're doing so well. Size again. Straighten again. Put up with bad attitudes and body odor. Feel like crying. Feel like screaming. Feel like killing. Go home. Do it again the next day. And somewhere in there, try not to lose your mind. Good luck with that.
And now, I don't even have anyone good to work with anymore. So, it's just going to get worse.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
