the girl is riding a scooter
with her knee pads and helmet.

i think the worst part about working again is not being able to start my entry with, "i did nothing today." even though it feels like i've accomplished nothing, and in actuality, have done nothing, i still went to work and sat at a computer for a solid four hours. i'm really glad i signed up for the night shift, though. there's no way i could survive a seven hour day shift at this place.

they finally tested us today, and they started eliminating people. luckily (unluckily?), i wasn't one of them. since i finished my first round of testing early, i had an extended break. i went to the cafeteria just to see what they had. i filled up a cup of water and read a july issue of entertainment weekly which featured an article on michael moore. i was hoping some older person might see me doing this and try to talk to me about how awful our country is, but no such luck. a black woman said, "hey there, how are you?" and i thought she was talking to me, so i looked up, said, "good, how are you?" and she looked at me and said, "good." then another black woman appeared from behind me and i realized she wasn't talking to me at all. when she was alone again, i tried to not seem so dumb for acting like she had addressed me earlier. "what time are we supposed to be back?" i asked. she looked annoyed. "we usually get fifteen minutes," she said. "oh, are you not training?" i asked. "no. you're probably on a different schedule." i used it as my opportunity to get the hell out of there. "i'd better go check," i said, before leaving.

i went to the front of the building, wishing i smoked. instead, i called meagan and then played snowball fight on my phone. gina showed up. she asked me how i liked it so far, and i all i could say was, "it's nice to know i'm getting $10 an hour just to sit there." "yeah," she said, "it gets kind of repetitive, though." i asked her if she usually goes anywhere on her break. "no. i'm a loner," she said. "i just go to my car and listen to the radio." she asked me how my library media technician interview went, and i told her i hadn't heard back yet. "will you move to watsonville if you get it?" "yeah," i told her. "i probably will."

when i filled my car up at the shell station, i had that terrible thought i usually have when i watch the numbers going up. there goes one hour of work. there's two. almost three. for fuck's sake.

No comments: