So, as I promised, here I am to rectify my absence from the blog. Before I lose any of you due to a lengthy blog, I feel I should explain my absence in two ways. First, I am working probably less hours than any one of you by nearly half (in Lynnea's case, probably 1/8), but I am still actually working a lot. I have worked every day since last Sunday, and I will work today, meaning I haven't had a day off in over a week, and since I started working, I've only had an actual weekend once. My boss seems to be very happy with me, though we've put off assistant manager training for another week just so I can get used to a few more things in the store. I've really enjoyed work, though, but I'm just saying I'm busier that way than I'm used to. Second, I've had Kurbis's comment running through my head, the one where he told me that he couldn't ever get through one of my blogs, and so that's the sort of thing that'll get any longwinded person down for a bit. But enough excuses, because I know mine are crap and so are yours, so get on here and blog. Gabe says so.
Early this week, prior to the normal lunch rush, I was ringing up a middle-aged couple with some sandwiches and soup, nothing in particular out of the ordinary. The woman proceeded to say that they were a bit out of sorts because they had driven all the way from Montana, and so I got excited since it was my home for a year (I am a vagabond of sorts with Wyoming plates, a Montana driver's license, and a Washington address). I asked where they were from. Great Falls she said, and I told her I was in Missoula the past year going to school. She said her daughter was finishing her last year of undergrad at UM. I don't know if I was dumb enough to ask what they were doing all the way out near Portland, or maybe she just decided to tell me. "We're out here to bury our son. He died last week in Iraq." I think I mumbled out an I'm sorry, but I just sat there for a few seconds. If they hadn't already paid for their meal, I would have got it for them. I just didn't know what to do. I was so out of it that I forgot their soup. That was a messed up sort of day.
I guess another less serious story is to explain last night and why I won't return to the young adult group I'm been going to with this church since I showed up here. Man, that's a jumbled sentence. We went to this "concert" at a trendy church downtown, and it was possibly the low-point of my four months here. It was unbearably loud, and the only song I recognized from the band that was supposedly playing 80s covers was Carry on my Wayward Son, which happens to be from the 70s. It was also crowded, but most people were sitting around coffee tables, and the average age in the room was 35. I was crammed in a corner up against a wall, trying not the think about the fact that I spend five hours a day on my feet, causing some trouble with my ankle, and here I was in my off hours standing at some awful concert. In between bands, I sat down with the young adult group I was there with, but most of them wandered off except for one guy, a student from Germany who is leaving on Wednesday. He's the only person that had a conversation with me the entire night. Then our group leader challenged me to a game of checkers, a board game I consider more base than football (Folkestad, you know what that means), but I had nothing else to do and I was bored out of my mind. He took only three of my pieces the entire game. He happens to be a high school football coach. We don't so much connect. The worst part is, he's the only one at this thing that talks to me other than the guy from Stuttgaart. I'm not going back to this thing, not that we go to stupid concerts every week, but I've been going since July and can't claim a single friend from the group. I'm tired of trying.
So, enough depressing stories from Steve. I'm actually doing very well, minus these two stories. My boss keeps telling me I'm doing great, my coworkers seem to like me (probably to butter me up so I'll buy them beer sometime, blasted high schoolers), and I've had some productive artistic attempts in my spare time. And my loan consolidation just went through. Maybe I'm not a masterful screwup. But let's not get our hopes up. That wasn't too long, was it? Next time I'll have to tell some stories about my Vietnamese boss. He's interesting. Somebody else get on here and let's get back on this thing.
Early this week, prior to the normal lunch rush, I was ringing up a middle-aged couple with some sandwiches and soup, nothing in particular out of the ordinary. The woman proceeded to say that they were a bit out of sorts because they had driven all the way from Montana, and so I got excited since it was my home for a year (I am a vagabond of sorts with Wyoming plates, a Montana driver's license, and a Washington address). I asked where they were from. Great Falls she said, and I told her I was in Missoula the past year going to school. She said her daughter was finishing her last year of undergrad at UM. I don't know if I was dumb enough to ask what they were doing all the way out near Portland, or maybe she just decided to tell me. "We're out here to bury our son. He died last week in Iraq." I think I mumbled out an I'm sorry, but I just sat there for a few seconds. If they hadn't already paid for their meal, I would have got it for them. I just didn't know what to do. I was so out of it that I forgot their soup. That was a messed up sort of day.
I guess another less serious story is to explain last night and why I won't return to the young adult group I'm been going to with this church since I showed up here. Man, that's a jumbled sentence. We went to this "concert" at a trendy church downtown, and it was possibly the low-point of my four months here. It was unbearably loud, and the only song I recognized from the band that was supposedly playing 80s covers was Carry on my Wayward Son, which happens to be from the 70s. It was also crowded, but most people were sitting around coffee tables, and the average age in the room was 35. I was crammed in a corner up against a wall, trying not the think about the fact that I spend five hours a day on my feet, causing some trouble with my ankle, and here I was in my off hours standing at some awful concert. In between bands, I sat down with the young adult group I was there with, but most of them wandered off except for one guy, a student from Germany who is leaving on Wednesday. He's the only person that had a conversation with me the entire night. Then our group leader challenged me to a game of checkers, a board game I consider more base than football (Folkestad, you know what that means), but I had nothing else to do and I was bored out of my mind. He took only three of my pieces the entire game. He happens to be a high school football coach. We don't so much connect. The worst part is, he's the only one at this thing that talks to me other than the guy from Stuttgaart. I'm not going back to this thing, not that we go to stupid concerts every week, but I've been going since July and can't claim a single friend from the group. I'm tired of trying.
So, enough depressing stories from Steve. I'm actually doing very well, minus these two stories. My boss keeps telling me I'm doing great, my coworkers seem to like me (probably to butter me up so I'll buy them beer sometime, blasted high schoolers), and I've had some productive artistic attempts in my spare time. And my loan consolidation just went through. Maybe I'm not a masterful screwup. But let's not get our hopes up. That wasn't too long, was it? Next time I'll have to tell some stories about my Vietnamese boss. He's interesting. Somebody else get on here and let's get back on this thing.
1 Comments:
Good to hear from you, I am glad that our not-so-subtle comments got you to actually post. Maybe others will follow suit...
By
Lynnea, at 1:23 AM
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