Domestically Challanged.

I hate working.

Plan and simple, it is not for me.

I don't know how people do it, go to work. do their jobly things. Go home. I just dislike immensly and whats even worse is that because of the time that i work, i have to clean up everything as the store closes.

I am not a cleaner. I just don't have the "cleanign bone" in me. You would think that i was brought up in a home of maids, a dinner staff and such because of my lack of domestic ability. Not the case. I just am not a cleaner. I take forever to do it, when i do do it, it's half ass, and then i just kind of drag around. The assistant manager, guy who made me the coffee, takes it easy on me. Must be my sweet charm or something, cause i'v been there two weeks and still manage to screw something up, and he just smiles shows me how to do it, and laughs.

The owner of the shop. Not so much. He knows i can't clean, and because of that i don't think he likes me that much. I'm watched constantly by him at the register, while i'm cleaning, while i', "sweeping". He keeps asking me " are you sure you know how to do this", even if i don't my stubborness and wanting to show him wrong prevents me frm admitting when i have no idea what i am doing. He frowns a lot when he is around me. He has reason to frown though.

Reason1
I didn't wear gloves when i was shredding the vegetables, he found out because some older guy(late 40's) who works there ratted me out. I got ratted out. So i wasn't i wasn't wearing my gloves, it's not like my hand was dirty. So tomorrow the people who ask for mushroom, green peppers or onion on their sandwich, will have a little piece of me with them, whats the big deal.

Reason 2
At the register i am suppose to announce what the order is, by speaking in this ridiculous microphone. I usually forget, so all the cooks have no idea what is suppose to be on the sandwiches, even though there is a screen that tells everything i input into the register.

Reason 3
Once again my cleaning, not the greatest at it. I can't sweep to save my life. It's more like shoving things under other things. Mopping is also another thing. I can't seem to coordinate the moping with the floor, and the water, and i'm tripping and sliding all over the place. Washing dishes is more like dipping in water, shake shake shake, dry.

The only thing this job has taught me is that i don't want to be doing this in 5 years. All i can think of when i am working, is how much i don't want to be there. I'm serving to all these kids who are having a grand old time not working and here i am trapped behind a counter, only a couple of feet from freedom. It makes me think of the painting Nighthawks by Edward Hopper, trapped in this lifeless place as things go one around you.

I want a career not a job, and this is clearly a job. A horrible horrible in which i have to clean, shred, sweep, mop, scrub.

And then i burnt myself on something. I'm a pre-med student(yes i am going to be doctor one day), wanting to work in the trauma unit. But the one thing that i don't like is burns. Not that i wouldn't totally help someone who was burning, just that seeing the burns ...i couldn't do. Luckily "watchful" boss didn't see though i was resting my hands in the mushroom, b/c surprisingly they soothed my hand. Oh i forgot about that thing...

Reason 4
Keep slightly burnt finger in pile oof cold mushrooms.

I'm so tired, but i wanted to write a post before i totally pass out.

Beckett