first week

i fell asleep in the couch at 9 p. my feet were numb from standing and moving around the whole day, my back was in pain from lifting lots and lots of beautiful fancy bedding sets the whole day. my attitude, against every effort had gone from "it's great to have a job!" to "is it time to go home yet?"

welcome back to the real world!

actually, it would not be so bad if the manager had not walked up to me in the morning and said that he needs me full time, instead of part time the whole next week, helping to sort out things in the stock room. in the dark, dingy stock room. a whole week. i'd done such a good job organizing my department that they want me to stay down there and organize some others too. and yes, he knows that they didn't hire me to do that and he understands and he also knows that he told me that it's up to me how many hours a week i want to work but he'd really need me to help out. trying to hold my smile i try not to start crying. not sure if the dramatic effect of crying is my desperation or an extra dose of hormones floating around my body and not knowing what to do with themselves.

so i go upstairs in the bright pretty floor where the people who have been on the job a lot longer serve customers and tell them which sheets would go well with this and that shades in their bedroom. the section manager asks me how i am doing. i try to squeeze out a "great" and have to turn away so she doesn't see that i am about to start crying. must be hormones, i am not this weepy usually. she looks at me and with a sad smile says "i had a feeling that shining smile won't stay long on you". in my "wisdoms for life" i put in another one - be extra nice to desperate looking sales associates.

i was trying so hard to prove them all wrong. the first few days i was in a great mood and with a great attitude, i was determined to have a great attitude no matter what. despite all the predictions that this job is dull and boring, despite the associates who just are there to get by and shove things around so it's somewhat done. i was determined to do well. i was determined to do well in this job because at the end of the day, i feel like i have really earned my money. my minimum wage earned with perfection.

at the end of the day, i am walking home. i can barely feel my feet, they ache and throb. i don't want to spend the £2 on a bus ride home, i will suck it up. my face is dull because i don't have any energy for an expression on it. even a mad one.

i go to the grocery store because i am hungry and even if it is a minimum wage job in a dingy stock room for the time being, i am thankful that my husband has a job that makes enough money that we are not dependent on my salary. i am thankful that if it gets to the point i can't take it anymore, i can quit. i am thankful that i have a job and i don't have to feel useless. i am thankful that i have feet that can throb at the end of the day. i am thankful that i can walk in any place in this country and have a job then and there. i am thankful that God has blessed me with so many things that this is not enough to put a damper on who i am.

so i decide to celebrate it.

i buy a nice bottle of wine. i go home where i put my feet in the softest socks i can find and make a dinner for the two of us. it's roast potatoes smothered in olive oil and herbs with roast chicken stuffed with black pepper and spices and chestnut stuffing, complemented with honey-mustard parsnips and steamed carrots. we drink a nice bottle of wine and eat a nice desert and my husband gives me a nice foot rub. i have the deepest sleep i have had in a very long time.

and i am looking forward the next office job.