My So-Called Life

Okay, so today was only My Tuesday, and so far this week has been even more of a struggle than usual for reasons of Hell Is Other People.

Yesterday, about half an hour before the end of my shift, for at least the second time, I dropped off a dish in the bakery while someone else was in there having an actual conversation with Kayleigh.

Now, this was at least the second time she has done this: as I walk past she will say something like, "I bet Ryan is starting to get real sick of me for makin' him clean so many dishes" instead of actually asking me if that is how I feel or, you know, saying nothing and just letting me drop off your goddamn clean dishes in silence while you continue your conversation with whoever else is actually in there spending time with you.

Anyway, this time as soon as she said, "I bet Ryan--" I snapped and said, rather loudly, without looking at her or the other person, "Ryan HATES IT when other people put words in his mouth" and walked out of there without waiting for any response.

Of course that made me kind of dread working with her again today, but fortunately our interactions were all very brief. (I guess she noticed my no-tie shoelaces for the first time, because she asked how I got them that way. It was cute.)

And then today, Gina complained AGAIN about the bins.

Let me back up a bit and explain. The dish pit has two bins full of pre-soak to make the human dishwashers' lives a tiny bit easier. One for silverware, one for ramekins. Pretty simple concept, right? That was a rhetorical concept, but apparently the answer is . . . maybe.

To me the bins should be nearly impossible to confuse, since the silverware goes in a bigger BLACK bin and the ramekins go in a significantly smaller WHITE bin, 

but apparently some servers do struggle with the concept quite a bit.

In fact, some of them struggle so much that MORE THAN TWO MONTHS AGO, I actually switched my setup so that it should be physically impossible for them to "forget" that the ramekin bin is there. Shortly after making this switch, Joe the bartender (who is cool!) said something, and I winked and said, "I moved them because some people who aren't you forget that there are two separate bins" and he laughed and it was nothing. Gina also said something fairly soon and I politely brushed it off, but in my head I was thinking, You've been here forever, I know you can do this.

A few other people did have questions, but I don't remember those interactions. I'm always happy to answer questions and it's no big deal, especially if they are new here, especially if I am re-filling the bin they're trying to drop something off in at that very moment, especially if whatever, I don't care, just get my attention and be polite and I'll happily answer every time.

Anyway, I don't remember how many times it has happened since the first time, but today was the latest time Gina complained about which bin goes where. She actually asked if she could move them and I said sure, but every time she brings this up, I can't help but think: Okay, so you noticed you dropped something in the wrong bin, and instead of fixing it in one second you want to spend unlimited time complaining about which bin goes where?

Seriously, at this point I don't even care. Of course I would love it if everyone who drops off any dishes would respect the bins and only drop silverware in the silverware bin and only drop ramekins in the ramekin bin, but I understand that mistakes happen, and I understand that different dishwashers have different setups and that may make it confusing from the other side of the pit . . . but I honestly do not care anymore. The one thing I will say anything about is not dropping butter dishes in either bin, because that will make the entire bin extra gross. Do I appreciate it when people turn on their brains and open their eyes enough to remember there are two separate bins? Yes, of course. Does it ruin my mood when stuff does get dropped in the wrong bins? No, of course not. 

So yeah, she's just going on and on and on and on about this problem which seems to only be a problem for her, and at this point I really want to say, "Look, if you can just consistently make sure that your silverware and your ramekins are always submerged in some fucking bin you will be exceeding expectations. I am working by my damn self and my pit is set up in a way that makes sense to me. Please go find a real problem to complain about. Have you really been here ten years? Damn."

And I realize that all the terrible shit I've been through makes it difficult to communicate with anyone about anything, but oh my fucking gosh, this hurts my brain so much. You are literally the only person who has a problem with this, but you have to make it everyone else's problem? Has anything bad ever happened to you in your entire life? What the actual fuck is wrong with you?

Obviously no one here knows about how traumatized I am by all the horrible shit I've barely survived, but it's so frustrating, because I never feel safe unless I'm at home, so every time I leave my room I have to put up my shields and keep my expectations low; I am just trying to get through the day without anyone yelling at me, but even then I know someone is probably going to say something mean to me or treat me like I don't exist, and I do not have any fucks to give about something this fucking stupid, Gina.

Well, it's not quite seven pm yet, and today has been pretty fucking great so far!

Obviously power outages are never ideal, but this one was planned, so I was able to get as prepared as currently possible.

I did not sleep through the whole thing, but while I was awake I didn't just watch stuff the whole time! I used my phone to play music (and used its flashlight for some extra brightness even though I did have light coming in through the window) and made some new potions. I also spent a very relaxing twenty or so minutes putting together a Sanrio sticker scene, which I have taped to the wall above my AC.

And the power came back on a little more than half an hour early!

And then later, I checked Walmart yet again, and it turns out that the bag I love so much IS still on sale and DID recently get some colors restocked! I ordered red, gray, and dark green so fucking fast!

Yes, this will be seven different colors of the same fucking bag. Would be eight, but rose gold still isn't in stock and I don't like how they gave the black bag brown straps & trim instead of making it all black (like they did with orange and lilac, so I know they fucking can!)

Work was actually quite nice tonight. For the second week in a row, on Thursday, aka My Friday, Chef has scheduled me to deep-clean from 3-11 while Alex takes care of dishes. (Actually the third week, but the first week he tried this was the week after Thanksgiving, so I suspected that he had accidentally copy & pasted my schedule, because why else did it say 1-10 again, and Kristen agreed, so after half an hour she let me go home . . . because Chef didn't mention this plan to anyone until Kristen sent an email explaining that she let me go home and he responded to it. I don't know why he's so weird about communicating. But whatever.) 

In a way this is obviously the most difficult day of my work week. Even with one of my little fans clipped to my shirt, I sweat a lot when I'm deep cleaning. But hey, it's cleaning that no one really has time for without it being scheduled this way, and of course cleaning can be a very nice way to kill time on the clock, and tonight was exponentially more pleasant because I realized, hey, there's no reason I can't put my phone in my pocket and blast music while I work! 

That was fucking great, but eventually I did have to stop the music because it drained my battery. 

It's not like this was the first time I've ever listened to music at work or anything. Sometimes I put in one earbud, although I have to be very careful with this because I can easily sweat so much that I worry about damaging the earbud. Heh. In theory I could get another speaker, but haven't yet because a) one of the cooks is usually blasting their own speaker unless b) Chef is there, and I kind of get the sense he wouldn't appreciate stuff like Wicked or Mean Girls or Encanto, so c) if I did have one, the times I could comfortably use it would be limited.

Another thing that happened at work, after everyone else had left the kitchen, was:
Alex told me that Anthony wants to quit being a server's assistant and transfer to BOH and be a dishwasher.
I am somewhat unsure how to feel about this prospect. On the one hand, yes, of course it would be wonderful to have four of us again; on the other hand, Anthony is so goddamn fucking boring that if he really does make this request and get approved and actually transfer, I might have to beg Chef to let us work together a maximum of one shift a week---
but THEN AGAIN, as I was typing this out it occurred to me that a fourth dishwasher could make my schedule a bit more flexible. 

Let's think about this. Right now, Kyle is pretty much locked in for five mornings a week. That leaves two for me. And Alex works five dinners a week, also leaving two for me. Plus, as of recently, that bonus Thursday of nothing but cleaning.

With a fourth dishwasher added to the schedule, the easiest and most practical thing would be to have him work with Alex so that more cleaning can happen than just on Thursday. 

I definitely want to keep both of my morning shifts (because they're fucking great), which are usually slow enough between breakfast and lunch that I have some time to deep-clean the dishpit just because I'm bored. And even though it's new, I quite like this Thursday cleaning shift because it's nice to see Alex. 

So what do I even want?

Assuming that Alex and Anthony always work together, there will still be two nights a week when I need to work dinner. Which would mean I'm still only available for one shift of "just" cleaning, BUT with a fourth person we can get more cleaning done, like, at least leave the floors looking great every single fucking night (and I'm saying floors plural because, technically, the kitchen contains multiple rooms; I just counted, and it's at least fourteen). I could make a deal with Chef that when I work my solo dinners I will deep-clean these floors on this night and these floors the next night even though it could mean going into overtime. Tonight I was pleasantly surprised to see that Andy had cleaned the floors in the three rooms that FOH use the most, which saved me at least twenty minutes. Maybe we could make that happen more often. Heck, maybe that could happen more often even if Anthony never transfers.

But if he does, there are possibilities.

1. The Berenstain Bears Christmas Special

2. various Doctor Who Christmas Specials (especially the ones featuring Doctor Fifteen or Doctor Eleven)

3. The Sabrina Christmas Special (Netflix Sabrina, not Nineties Sabrina)

4. Gilmore Girls 110, "Forgiveness and Stuff"

5. KRAMPUS

6. Batman Returns!

7. The Christmas Chronicles

8. Elf, duh

9. any or all Christmas episodes of Modern Family

10. any or all Christmas episodes of 30 Rock

11. that one Disney World Christmas Special I vaguely remember from when I was a kid?

12. Hearth's Warming Eve

13. Buffy the Vampire Slayer 310, "Amends"

And I'll end this list here, but I am also very open to the possibility of watching more Christmas horror movies.

Well, my usual December depression is here. Leaving my room for any reason is an epic struggle, because I literally have no energy for any fucking thing. Oh well, whatever.

Last night I finished The Residence, which is AMAZING, and now I'm not sure what to watch tonight. 

In twenty minutes it will be December twelfth, and I still have not jumped ahead in my Advent Calendar even though I have been tempted many times. So far, I have opened: Tuxedo Sam, My Melody, Badtz-Maru, a stupid shoddy cardboard sleigh that I had to assemble myself, Keroppi, Cinnamoroll, a second Tuxedo Sam, another stupid non-figure, a third stupid non-figure, Pompompurin, and a second Cinnamoroll. 

A few days ago, I opened Dream Besties Ken and Renee. I was SUPER excited about these fucking dolls, but opening them was somewhat disappointing. Of course I am still glad I have them, but they both need a little salon time AND the plastic band placed around Ken's waist left two creases in his shirt, and yeah, my enthusiasm for these dolls has deflated just a bit.

Brooklyn had already shipped, but I canceled my order for the other four. I'll probably get them all eventually, but right now Sanrio, Turtles, and vintage Skippers and Courtneys are exponentially more fun. If I'm even allowed to spend fun money on myself, which I really should not. Sigh.

Jesus fucking Christ, I am so goddamn fucking tired.