I woke up feeling really hungry and I was dreaming about chili so I had chili for breakfast. I've learned that working 12 hours three days in a row just standing still and packing boxes in a gray, loud, dry, windowless factory makes me not care about going to the gym or whether or not I should eat this homemade chocolate chip cookie or cleaning my room or going to the grocery store. When I get really, really tired, I cry. Did I already post that before? Maybe I did. So there I was, tears streaming down my face as I packed boxes yesterday afternoon. And then in the lunch room too. No noise or sobbing or anything, just little tears trickling down under the rim of my glasses and falling onto the sandwich bag containing my uneaten peanut butter sandwich.
I don't like not talking to anyone for hours at a time and then the only people around being the kind of people that think working in a warehouse for years on end would be a really good job. The best kind of job. They don't use the word "career" or think about what it would be like to retire after god-knows-how-many-years packing boxes and scanning merchandise.
Its time to go to work now.
1 comment:
I was happy. I had you there keeping me on track, keeping my thoughts positive, and lending me your shoulder. I am sorry Sarah Jo
Post a Comment