Keith and Jeff almost never do work until Laura comes back. It still blows my mind that she manages so badly. Most of the time I meet quota until she pulls one of my guys to do something else. It's OK though. I write it off as a bad job. It's just temporary.
I've been saying that for two months.
What I hate is being yelled at or shot down for doing my job at a reasonable rate.
The restaurant was dead. Unfortunately Jen and Kayla were working too. I ran a lot of food but only had to bus half the tables.
I think I lost my chem student. She brought me a lab to do but had no data. I explained the lab to her for a half hour and charged her for a half hour. It's typical for students to want a direct answer when it's impossible.
I keep getting emails from medical schools asking for a doctor's recommendation. That's what everything is hinging upon at the moment. One piece of paper from a physician saying that I'm a good person. Such foul flaming hoops to jump through.
Recently I have been dancing. The foxtrot is the most fun so far. I don't like samba; it's too quirky.
Dance and personality go hand in hand. For me...the perfect dance is fast, calculated, sexy, and driven. I would be in control of her but not myself. I think that's Jazz... Poise is appealing too.
Sharon likes samba.
Sharon's a great girl. Again, there's a difference in age but we're taking things one day at a time. Anything quicker than that seems to be too much.
In addition to working extensively I am also volunteering and helping out with things around the house. Sunday football and reading. I'm studying biochemistry and biofuels. Along with this I'm doing some psychology reading about male/female communication in long term relationships.
Right now I'm frustrated with the stagnation. I'm seeing a girl who has been here for 15 years and is panicking about everything not going anywhere. She has no respect, no input, and no identity here.
I don't want that.
At the same time I see this as a time in my life that I should take in. There are too many people at the restaurant with perfect cookie-cutter lives who have never worked like this. I see my generation equivalent of the super-rich kids having kids and wonder if I'm getting something out of it.
Every day is a struggle of perspective. I no longer think I'm "stuck here" but I think "I am being here." I will breathe in Madrid in the coming month. I will see when I get to medical school. Breathing and seeing are unimportant. The translation of what comes out...is important.
What I do with this is impossible to say.
It is odd to watch right now. Everybody but me has their teeth sunk in to graduate school, jobs, relationships, plans. People ask, in a careless manner, "what are you doing?" I can't answer them quickly. Right now I'm a factory worker. That's all that's important...I guess.
No comments:
Post a Comment