Morning Ritual

This is my first day back to the office since last Wednesday and you wouldn't believe the amount of work that is sitting in front of me! I can already predict that finishing this entry will take me more than an hour. Just to make sure, I originally opened this window at 9.30 am- It's 10.20 am now.

Apparently the people that could have done some of the work that has now been assigned to me, decided to fool around while I was gone (perhaps they were writing on their blogs?), so now I get the full load. I've been typing my life away on this keyboard since I got here, jumping from one project to the other. I've never been so thankful of having coffee in the morning as I was today, but as I sip some water while I work on stuff, I can't help but to dream about more coffee. . . (It's 10.47am now). But even though I feel like today is certainly going to be a long day, let me tell you what makes it all worth it. I'm not sure what your morning ritual might be, but mine, it's much needed.

Waking up is a nightmare, I could snooze my alarm 20 times if time would allow me to do so. But I gotta admit that after I'm up on my feet, things go a lot better. I'm lucky the days I eat something for breakfast, but that's never as important as having coffee. Today was a Carrot Cake Clif Bar and Vanilla something coffee- which my girlfriend gets for me after I drop her off where she works. Then I get to be stuck on traffic for about 45 minutes or so. Now let's be open minded for a second; I know no one likes the idea of traffic (and if you don't live in L.A. or Atlanta, you really have nothing to complain about!) but driving while drinking coffee and listening to KTalk (Politics) before I clock in really gets me started. I mean, there's nothing like dodging bad drivers with one hand (coffee on the other) while wondering why on earth Sarah Palin would write a speech on her hand. Doesn't this sound like the perfect beginning to a perfect morning?

Okay, maybe only to me, but still- do you have a different ritual? Well, after 8 hours of work, I get to go home to a warm meal and loving company- that's what makes it all worth it.

Alright, I think I need to leave this desk now and go grab some lunch. It's 12.40pm now in case you were wondering. . .

Little People Count Too

Boss: Ashley, do you remember when I interrupted yesterday?

Ashley (puzzled look): Uh. . .

Boss (cutting me off): Well I did that because I told you to only receive training from me, don't ask Jimmy (not a real name) any questions.

Ashley: When was this again?

Boss: Yesterday. You don't remember?

Ashley: Are you sure it was me?

Boss: Of course I am, you were asking about the computer.

Ashley: I don't remember.

Boss: This did happen yesterday. But don't worry, you didn't do anything wrong.

Damn right I didn't. I didn't work with Jimmy yesterday and I'm hella sure you didn't interrupt me asking questions about computers- I'd only ask people that have been formally trained in computers (I'm pretty computer savvy).

What is it about people that have a title that makes them think that anyone who works below them know nothing about anything? I have an awful memory, I'll say that- but I didn't work, with Jimmy- that's a fact (I looked in the schedule). Getting called on something I didn't do doesn't bother me as much as the fact that people with titles (usually) don't believe in the "little people."

In "Nickle and Dimed," Barbara Ehrenreich mentions how people would ignore her just because she was a maid or a waitress- only people "at her level" would greet her. Now I'm aware this is way different but all the rivers eventually fall into the same ocean- When I was still working at the theater and I was up for review, I approached my manager and said "My review was up about two weeks ago, am I still waiting for you to call me into the office?" That same day she called me in. She said I was a great worker, and in the last part, during "comments and suggestions," she said: "You shouldn't be so insecure." I asked her what she meant by that and she said that she didn't like the way I asked her about my review. First, that comment has NOTHING to do with my performance at work, and two, insecure? really? No wonder why you're a theater manager.

When do we get to stand up to these bosses and called THEM on their mistakes? Life works in a funny way- people move up, they get greedy and they forget things that matter.

Photo taken from http://vacascom.blogspot.com/2006_09_01_archive.html

I Put The A In Math- Wait, That Sounds Lame

Today will be a day I think I'll spend shopping and packing as I get ready to leave Alabama.

If you happened to read my previous entry, "I Quit," you read words written by a person not happy with the job she used to do- that person being me. As I get ready for the beginning of another semester in college (August 31st), I'm also trying to figure out what I'm gonna do work wise for such semester. Funny enough I'm no longer a Freshman, and this Fall will welcome me as a Sophomore.

I've already managed to get a job with the school at the Outreach Center doing the very prestigious task of clerical work (ha!), which I'll work from Tuesday to Friday. The thing is that I'm also a few days away from getting another job. This other job won't offer me much hours or lots of money, but it will be a fun job to do. Basically, I will have to go to a math class twice a week, and after the class, I will spend an hour or two with students that need extra help with math.

It may be a little stretch for me if I get this job, but I really want to do it. From my own experience, a LOT of people have trouble with math and sometimes that is the reason why they're behind in their education- so if I can help them get through it, then I'll take the stretch, even if it means less hours of sleep for me (and I will be getting paid for it too so it's not like it's such a stretch. . .).

The interview will happen on Wednesday, a day after I arrive to L.A. And right after the interview, I'll be tested on my math skills. If hired, I'll have my training on Thursday. So here I am, brushing up on my math skills.

I've always been good at math. I used to want to be an Aerospace Engineer when I graduated from High School but thanks to the three-year break I had to take to work, I ended up switching my career path. I like math because it's so mechanical. It either works or it doesn't. There isn't a gray area, you have it right or you don't. But most of my classmates (and other students) don't see the beauty in that. They just think math is a bunch of complex numbers- and it may be sometimes, but for the most part, it isn't. I am looking forward to this interview and I really want this job because I'll be able to make a difference (hopefully) in a student's education. So I'm preparing as best as I can to get this job.

How does a writer end up liking math so much, I don't know.

Wish me luck!

I Quit

It was my first day in yet another customer service job. "This should help with my textbooks," I thought, as I put on the theater uniform. I wasn't happy to be there. It had nothing to do with having to work, I've always enjoyed working, I think it just hadn't been a good day for me.
My shift was supposed to start at 2pm and end around 10pm. It was another sunny Saturday in L.A. "Here's what you need to do, if you have a question, find me," Bob, one of the theater managers, said as he handed me a schedule. I was officially owned by the company and therefore had to take orders.Serve people, that's usually the basics of customer service. Smile even if you don't mean it; you can't sit because somehow that would offend a guest. If you're hungry, it doesn't matter- you have a scheduled break and that's when you get to eat.

The guest I'm there to serve is the one that cares less. He doesn't make eye contact. He doesn't acknowledge you- and maybe pity is what causes this. He doesn't care to know that I am more than a job and that is just a way to get me through college. He doesn't know that I read on my spare time- for fun (imagine that!). That I play sports or that I like to have a beer to accompany the Sunday game.

I performed my duties accordingly and once my break time comes around I clocked out and went to the break room almost running. I got a cup of soup from a nearby cafe and once I got back into the tiny break room, I was forced to eat on the floor as the four chairs that habituate the room were currently taken. I wasn't the only one on the floor- it would be impossible with a staff of over a hundred. But I was one of the unlucky who had to sit next to the overflowing trash can. The mixed smell of whatever the trash can contained, took away any sort of appetite I had and I gave up my soup to the smelly monster. Perhaps contributing to worsen the situation.

I put my game face on and went back to the floor. I had four more hours to go. I was hungry,and my feet felt like a time bomb, like they could have given up on me any second now. I punched back in and walked over to my next duty. I was there to make everyone happy. To make sure that they come back again so whoever owns the place gets richer and richer. And what does this guy do for me? He doesn't even provide a humane place to eat, not for me or the others. For the managers maybe? They don't use the break room because they have their offices.I guess they wouldn't know what it's like to eat next to a giant trash can.

"Yale," I kept repeating to myself.