Tuesday don't I get called in to work. Damn it. I wore rubbery crock-like shoes without socks to try my best to baby the tat. I had a great day at work if you call doing dishes for countless hours great. Wednesday I get called in and later asked if I can possibly work all week. Super. I said yes because I am so new and I need to kiss ass. Today I was instructed to call in and ask if I would be needed. Of course I was. More dishes. Tomorrow I have to call in again. Give me a break. The last two days they've had a trainee to do extra work. They didn't need me and I felt in the way. Please cross all your digits that they say they don't need me tomorrow. I go to breakfast with my friends on Fridays and I need a break. Groceries here are nonexistent and laundry is piling up.
Well, I have officially been inducted into Lunch Lady Land, it seems. I burnt my hand really badly yesterday. It blistered on contact when I hit it against a 450 degree oven rack trying to fish out a pizza that someone stuck in too far. The blister was impressive and lasted until this afternoon. Then, for my final hazing I was kind of yelled at today. I take that kind of thing way too personally, so I am probably making more out of it than it was.
I was in specifically to do dishes, lucky me. People, one girl in particular, kept nudging me aside and taking over even though I was on pace just fine. I was pissed because between tray drop offs I was standing there bored. I looked forward to the trays and dishes just to keep busy. One girl, in particular who's never been too nice to me took the sprayer from me three times in succession. I said, "I can do this, really." I was just being conscientious, I thought. I said it nicely and smirked. Well, she let loose on me. "I just want you to know (read with snotty voice) that here we all pitch in to help each other out," she says. I assured her that I understand and was cool with that but I was being left to stand there doing nothing, which upset me. She didn't take well to that. Seems she was trying to look busy by taking my job thus making me look like a slacker. Grr. Women are too hard to work with. Lunch men would be so much better although I can't see a man in a hair net.
I have always been a huge over achiever in every one of my shitty jobs. It's always bitten me in the ass in one way or another. Usually, though, it causes me to be given more work beyond my job description since I can handle it. Not here. "Well," she says, "We don't let people get backed up here, we all help each other out, that's how we're different than the other schools." Backed up? WTF? I was absolutely not backed up and I took offense to that comment. So, only my 4th day at this location and I've already had someone get snotty with me. Super. I wanna take the bitch out back and make her understand in one way or another that I'll do my own damn job and she can find something else to do with herself. The people here are never going to let me learn by doing either. They just do everything and make me watch, which I hate. I only got to serve lunch the one day I trained there. The other 5 days I've worked I've been doing dishes, sometimes while making fries or cooking pizzas at frantic pace to keep the lines from running out. Sigh. I kept up on it all, though, and those days went by faster.
Lunch Lady Land officially sucks. Don't try it. If you're a stay-at-home-mom, stay that way. You've got it made, trust me. I've worked nights at Dunkin' Donuts, Wegmans, and Suburban Propane. Working nights and watching kids during the days is impossible unless you like being miserable. I've worked in-home babysitting during the days. That was bad in a few ways. Other people's kids suck, I found. The parents took advantage of me. The hours were long and I was tied to my house every single day, unable to make appointments. Then, I worked at the Y watching kids. Imagine a room containing 100 or so kids ranging in age from 18 mo. to 5 or 6. That's if I was lucky and not stuck in the infant room where they range from 6 wks. to 18 mo. Again, other people's kids. Although they were cuter and more likable in the baby room, the ratio of workers to babies was 1 to 4. No one person can care for 4 babies at one time. My boss was a psycho-bitch there and I hated that job in particular. I disliked most of my co-workers. Turns out, I am not too fond of women in general. The last job I liked was working for and with men. I just find it to be the worst of late because it was my last job and it's fresh in my memory. I was sure Lunch Lady Land would be the key. It's a foot in the door. Wait. A foot in what door? In the door of full-time lunch ladiness! Ack! On the bright side, I am home to put my kids on and take them off the bus. I don't work on their half days or off-days. I won't work all summer. Why can't I just like this job? I don't know. I know one thing: work is a 4 letter word and if it didn't suck they would call it fun.
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