Monday, December 17, 2007
Obligatory Blog Post

I only worry that when this stint is over, there will be nothing left of me.

All I do is sleep, go to work, come home, eat dinner, and go to sleep. I'm constantly exhausted, and am now accompanied everywhere by a dull ache that starts at the spot where my head joins my neck, and ends somewhere in the arches of my feet. I talk to 160-200 people per day, but I now rarely say anything substantive to anyone. By the time I get home, I've run out of words for the day, and all I want is to not talk, to not have to listen.

I should quit whining, I know. It's not that bad. I've certainly had worse jobs. But this is the shitty job I have now, and I don't have much else to talk about. So here you go.

The book business, it turns out, is sort of a meat market. Sometime over the weekend one of the girls I started with dumped her long-time boyfriend and moved in with one of the other guys at Fnorders. I get hit on/flirted with on a daily basis, sometimes even by guys I'd consider responding to if it weren't for the twenty people standing in line behind them, glaring at me if I slow down. A few days ago I had a nice (if brief) chat with a surprisingly cute guy who was buying American Scientist and some astronomy magazine -- I asked him if he'd read Seed. He said he hadn't. I recommended it. Light chit-chat ensued. He went and got a copy, and grinned and said he'd come back to tell me what he thought of it. He won't, really, but it was a relatively fun way to kill five minutes.

It's just when they're stacked up thirty deep, the line snaking all the way back to the horror section, that it starts to become stressful. I'm starting to mess up more often. Or maybe it only seems that way -- out of possibly 200 customers in a day, I might significantly screw up two transactions, which is still only a 1% error rate. But it's getting harder to concentrate on the job, and the customers are getting crabbier the closer we get to Christmas.

Even the old-timers are complaining. This sucks. But I don't have much else to talk about.
10:33 PM ::
Amy :: permalink
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