I have known quite a few people who have worked 12 to 8 or something of the sort, 5 days a week. I was forever jealous of the schedule that allowed them to come out at the perfect time to hit the bar as well as allowing them to sleep their hangover off well before going into work. But after having worked this “heavenly schedule” for the last 5 months, I have realized that it’s not all peaches and cream…yes, peaches and cream!
I find myself swallowed by The Nothing. Now, it doesn’t help that my job requires me to stand for 8 hours a day, which at my tender old age takes its toll. God, how much have I bitched in the few sentences? Yes, it’s going to be one of those blogs, have I even written a positive one since leaving the land of the rising sun? I guess the lack of parties and all you can drink sessions has left me cynical and negative.
Sorry, I digress. While working the traditional 8:30 to 5 or something along those lines does have its own reasons to suck, I am here to say that working 12 to 8 sucks equally, if not more. Now perhaps, for someone more motivated than I, a 12 to 8 job would give them the mornings to do as they like and accomplish things, like a real human. Between the hours of 7:30am and around 11am, there is only one place you will find me, and that is in the fetal position wrapped in blankets, sleeping. Don’t get me wrong, this part of the job is AMAZING! But I’ve actually become so accustomed to sleeping at least 10 hours a night that when I sleep for, god forbid, 8 hours, I’m cranky and I want everyone in the world to die, at least until I’ve had the daily standard of one billion cups of coffee and a zillion cigarettes, after that its ok that everyone is alive.
One would probably think, well, at 8pm, there must be so much energy flowing through my body that I am indeed the life of any party I attend. First and foremost, I do not attend parties. I can count on two hands how many people I know in this town, and if you remove my girlfriend’s friends, cousins and other family members from that equation, let’s just say…I don’t need hands.
Now this is not a sad thing for me as I am completely alright knowing no one and doing very little, and this is my main point of the post 8pm rant. Even if I had buddies to go out for beers with or the like, I would probably end up coming home, putting on sweats and either veggin’ out in front of the tv or playing x-box. I bet the girlfriend’s father is wondering at this point: 1) why did I let this kid live in my house? and 2) WTF does my daughter see in him? I’m gonna chalk number 2 up to my “supreme skillz” in the boudoir and my dashing good looks. All the ladies love, tall, pale and lanky right?
But honestly it took me until just the other day to realize that I have indeed been swallowed by The Nothing. I haven’t job hunted, even though I am grossly overqualified for my job. (Sidebar: This is not me being arrogant; even if I had this job in high school I’d think I was grossly overqualified for it.) I just have a supreme lack of drive right now, between the hours of 8pm and 11am. The fact that it took me over 4 days to sit down and write a blog about how I am lazy and feel like doing nothing should attest to that. Just by the end of the day at a dead end job, I come home and just want to actually do nothing, not pretend to be enthusiastic about cell phones.
Although this job is horrendous and I dread nothing other than someone asking me what I do for a living at 28 years old after attending University and attaining a degree, I do OWN it. Between the hours of 12 to 8 I am a wheeling, dealing, spieling MACHINE! I rock spiels at every single customer that comes through the door. Even the old woman with her walker that has her hearing aid turned to the max that came in to get milk that is on sale that day gets a spiel about how every time a cell phone is activated an angel gets its wings and she gets a bunch of points on her pharmacy point card. Yes, I actually use that as a line. That along with a few others, like….
Do you like puppies, kittens and [pharmacy card’s] points? Because if you activate a cell phone you get one of those…(customer looks puzzled)…*whisper* It’s [pharmacy card’s] points.
What’s better than a cold beer on a hot day? A new cell phone and 50,000 [pharmacy card’s] points!!
There are a bunch but that’s all I’ll subject you to. It’s a performance. Instead of 40 Japanese kids sitting quietly in front of me, it’s now whoever the hell walks into the store. I do it so much that people see me and shoot up the aisles to the back of the store sometimes. That’s when I know I’m doing it right, not when people are running in to buy a phone, but when they will do ANYTHING to avoid me. I’ve watched MEN (like Clint Eastwood type men) turn and realize that to avoid me they had to walk up the lipstick and make-up aisle, then almost deviate towards me, only to bite the bullet and do it, I watch them come out at the other end dejected, like somehow they just lost a testicle by doing so, and GOD does that make me feel good.
So, I guess the point in all of this is that regardless of how much I hate my job and my schedule and everything else, I still try to do my job to the best of my ability. Having a liquor store beside my place of employment generally helps me out in dealing with the crappiness of it all and, through wine and hopefully some motivation, I hope to restore Fantasia to its former glory and get myself a real person job some day.