2002-05-11 - 9:32 p.m.
I don't know how to start this entry ... there's soft piano music in the background from the streaming I've got going on.
Pretend for me that you can hear it too because it just makes the atmosphere that touch cooler than I ever could.
I've started the entry on the wrong note for where I mean to go. And so, in the grand tradition of me, I shall swerve thought paths violently and hope not cause any fatal injuries as angry, disillusioned commuters blast me with their horns.
Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeepppp!!!!!!!
That reminds me, my bus nearly crashed yesterday. A car stupidly went despite it being a red light and the bus had to break suddenly causing everyone to be jerked forward.
It was kind of a funny scene actually, watching all the people standing up fall all over each other. I was about to laugh except I cut myself off going "Ow!" when I was thrown into the seat in front of me.
Pain is more funny when done unto others ... unless it's done to me and involves me falling over and landing in pie. I could see the funny there.
But again, this was not what I meant to write about. Work! Was where I was trying to go. Checkoutchick work, I meant, as the other educative kind is a sad blank as always.
Today at work the major clich� happened: A couple bought four boxes of condoms, none of which would scan. I had to fight so hard not to laugh. It's lucky that we don't announce what we need a price check on over the P.A. ... otherwise I really would have lost it.
Ah, work. I like it in many respects - seeing all the people, the variety of Broadway, and my work colleagues are all cool and so helpful ... I've never had such comraderie before.
I don't think I should have used that word there. It sounds as if we work in the trenches, battling to provide goods to the people ... I'll shut up here now.
But yesterday I caught myself looking through the paper for another job. I want something closer, higher paying, and possibly something with clothes. But I do like my job muchly all the same. It's weird.
Another moment with Peter, supervisortype guy. He was talking to a customer, badmouthing my supervisor loudly ("...slave-driver!...") but I was the only one who heard, and looked up... shared a look, smiled. I find myself getting attached to guys who are borderline nice to me, just because there's a such a gap in my life there.
No, don't bother saying it, I'm so far beyond pathetic that you pretty much have to invent a new word for a class that consists entirely of me.
Oh well. Least I'm not pregnant, like Shelley dreamed I was. Except, wait, didn't I want a baby? ... Damn.
Things that make me smile on the inside at the irony/nonsensicalness of it all at work:
- Guys who buy those energy bars with pictures of muscles on them, as if eating a few will have spinach/popeye effect.
- Girls who buy diet food in bulk. You know, it doesn't work if you eat a lot of it.
- Students with that save the world type attitude who come in and use recyclabletype bags, trying to be good to the planet ... but they buy all this preservative crap, and it's like, dude, that's great about the planet and all but what about your body?!
Did I just say dude?! I am so ending this trauma slang fest now.
Pretend for me that you can hear it too because it just makes the atmosphere that touch cooler than I ever could.
I've started the entry on the wrong note for where I mean to go. And so, in the grand tradition of me, I shall swerve thought paths violently and hope not cause any fatal injuries as angry, disillusioned commuters blast me with their horns.
Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeepppp!!!!!!!
That reminds me, my bus nearly crashed yesterday. A car stupidly went despite it being a red light and the bus had to break suddenly causing everyone to be jerked forward.
It was kind of a funny scene actually, watching all the people standing up fall all over each other. I was about to laugh except I cut myself off going "Ow!" when I was thrown into the seat in front of me.
Pain is more funny when done unto others ... unless it's done to me and involves me falling over and landing in pie. I could see the funny there.
But again, this was not what I meant to write about. Work! Was where I was trying to go. Checkoutchick work, I meant, as the other educative kind is a sad blank as always.
Today at work the major clich� happened: A couple bought four boxes of condoms, none of which would scan. I had to fight so hard not to laugh. It's lucky that we don't announce what we need a price check on over the P.A. ... otherwise I really would have lost it.
Ah, work. I like it in many respects - seeing all the people, the variety of Broadway, and my work colleagues are all cool and so helpful ... I've never had such comraderie before.
I don't think I should have used that word there. It sounds as if we work in the trenches, battling to provide goods to the people ... I'll shut up here now.
But yesterday I caught myself looking through the paper for another job. I want something closer, higher paying, and possibly something with clothes. But I do like my job muchly all the same. It's weird.
Another moment with Peter, supervisortype guy. He was talking to a customer, badmouthing my supervisor loudly ("...slave-driver!...") but I was the only one who heard, and looked up... shared a look, smiled. I find myself getting attached to guys who are borderline nice to me, just because there's a such a gap in my life there.
No, don't bother saying it, I'm so far beyond pathetic that you pretty much have to invent a new word for a class that consists entirely of me.
Oh well. Least I'm not pregnant, like Shelley dreamed I was. Except, wait, didn't I want a baby? ... Damn.
Things that make me smile on the inside at the irony/nonsensicalness of it all at work:
- Guys who buy those energy bars with pictures of muscles on them, as if eating a few will have spinach/popeye effect.
- Girls who buy diet food in bulk. You know, it doesn't work if you eat a lot of it.
- Students with that save the world type attitude who come in and use recyclabletype bags, trying to be good to the planet ... but they buy all this preservative crap, and it's like, dude, that's great about the planet and all but what about your body?!
Did I just say dude?! I am so ending this trauma slang fest now.
