Scott Hardie | November 15, 2002
The bad stuff: Setting the alarm for 8am, going to bed at midnight, finally falling asleep around 7am. Getting to work at 9:40 but not getting clocked in until 10am because there's no reward for showing up early. Thinking I was off at 5pm, finding out I was on until 8pm. Not getting a break. Not getting a meal. Not having any Advil for a pounding headache. Being too fat to do half the things in the restaurant, since I can't fit. Not having a proper uniform till Monday, because it has to be special-ordered, because I'm too fat. Getting chewed out by the manager for not doing something that I actually did do, and not being able to get a word in edgewise about it. Thinking about 300 times that I have a college degree and I don't have to put up with this shit for eight bucks an hour, but knowing that I do because I have to pay bills and I've tried and failed to find other jobs. The physical exhaustion of working on my feet for 10.5 hours without a break.

The good stuff: Meeting some good people. Having someone sneak a large soda to me in the parking lot because she saw that I was working hard. Getting told I'd be earning $8.50 in a few weeks when I've gotten certified as a shift manager. Finding out that this restaurant (unlike the past three of the same variety where I worked) allows free food, and then taking home something delicious at the end of the day for free. The fulfillment of working a full day, instead of sitting around on my ass and feeling sorry for myself.

Will I stay at this job? I don't know. I don't mind it so much, and I like the people, and so far they like me, but my mental voice is usually in a constant stream of swear words because I fucking hate doing this degrading, exhausting job and I can't quit. The only thing I can do is renew my efforts to find a decent-paying job, in a place where I can sit most of the time. If I was promoted to assistant manager, which is the job for which I applied and was accepted, I would be making a just amount of money, and I would probably stay for 2-3 years. But I don't know for sure when that will happen, and I don't want to wait. So I guess it's back to the job search for me. But first, I'm going to motherfucking bed.

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