'this is my “not my real job” job, and I’m the only one who can talk shit about it. '

For those who have been, or are in this position now:

One customer came through my line and told me about her nephew who applied for a job at Trader Joe’s in Spokane. Apparently there were over 1,000 applicants for jobs when the store first opened. They could only take about 75 of those people. People wanted that job. They wanted my “not my real job” job to be their real job. And more than wanting, they actually needed it — something I hadn’t imagined possible That’s when I started to count myself lucky for even having a job at all. I started appreciating my co-workers and my managers. I started saying hello to the regulars and asking for their names.

I started overachieving.

I want my managers to like me. I want customers to remember me. I read the information about new products. I know the difference between a Gala and a Pink Lady. (They’re apples, okay!) I don’t check the codes for produce anymore. Bananas. 4011. Sweet Onions. 4166. Beefsteak Tomatoes. 4799. I comment to a co-worker that I never imagined knowing all this when I was sitting in a cap and gown at graduation 7 months ago.

He says to me: “It’s okay. This isn’t your real job.”

But it is my real job. For now. When people look at me and tell me I have to be patient about the job hunt, I understand. The job market is different now. College degrees will get you a great job at a grocery store. Maybe if I’m lucky, this internship will take me somewhere. Maybe it will get me that higher paying, career-oriented dream job I have been searching for, but then again, maybe it won’t. I didn’t imagine working at a grocery store right out of college, after all.

Maybe when I get that dream job, it will be boring. Maybe it will be what I’ve always hoped for. Maybe it won’t be hard, and I won’t have to struggle like I am now. I will be complacent and earn a decent salary, a decent amount of respect. Maybe I’ll think to myself, as I stare out the window of my dream office, “This isn’t a real job. I used to have a real job.”

133

Last stop. We reached Liverpool Street station and made our way off the bus. I glanced over the top floor double decker, a man was sitting with his head against the window.

He was asleep.

Our feet reached the pavement upon exit, the bus doors closed and it drove away. We left that man asleep on the bus, we walked past without even nudging him.


Now I feel bad, and I wrote 'we' so it seemed less like I. Truth is, I was the last one off the bus, the last one off the top floor. I protest that I thought a 'people' check would occur before the driver took off, as we had reached the final stop.

Nope, didn't happen.

I wonder where that man is now...

20 Feelings And Situations That Everybody Hates (I love thought catalogue)

1. Seeing a bug, then losing track of it and becoming a paranoid prisoner in your own home. - Currently, there is a wasp floating around my nice Brixton flat window.
   
2. Hearing loud slams and bumps while you’re in the shower and imagining it being some type of killer who you’ll have to fight off, soaking wet and butt naked. - Shower has made a slight shrill sound now that I have the temperature cooler, and I keep thinking it is a fire alarm.
   
3. Thinking that you’ve found a parking space, but as you turn in you discover that a motorcycle, a Volkswagen Bug, or some other vehicle the size of a Hot Wheels car has already occupied the spot. - happened in Tesco, Swansea last weekend, I failed to pick up milk.
   
4. When a sneeze refuses to come out, causing you to look like a fool with a scrunched up face. - This doesn't bother me, I'll pull weird expressions regardless (as proved yesterday in the National Gallery).
   
5. Waiting to hear from somebody specific and being bombarded by texts & calls from everyone who isn’t that person. - nah.
   
6. When the week feels like: Moooooooooooooonday, Tuuuuuuuuuuueeeesday, Weeeeeeeeeeeednesday, Thuuuuuuuuuursday, FriSatSun. - I wouldn't want to wish time away, but the weekend part is true.
   
7. You scan your surroundings. Nobody is near you. You fart. Within three seconds, somebody comes right into the stinky perimeter that you’ve created.- NAUGHTY! But humanely realistic.
   
8. Checking your bank account after a night of intoxicated drink purchases. - more so a night of Itunes purchases and restaurant dinners.
   
9. When you microwave frozen food and it’s scorching hot everywhere but the ice cold middle.- Don't own a microwave
   
10. When Michael Bay acquires the rights to make a film about a franchise that you previously enjoyed.- he's just too 'epic' for me.
    
11. When somebody makes up lies about you, and defending yourself makes you seem guilty – but not defending yourself seems suspicious as well.- Yawn
12. Getting paid but knowing in advance that your check will be consumed by bills.- Tadaa!!
13. Entering a parked car on a scorching hot summer day. - My equivalent is the London underground.
    
14. When gas prices are higher than your GPA.- plehhh, driving around last weekend, I noticed the prices are shocking.
    
15. When someone 20+ feet away holds the door open for you, forcing you to jog toward them.- Happens ALL THE TIME at work, and I run like a awkward giraffe anyways (imagine Phoebe run)
    
16. The humbling moment when you realize you’re wrong during an argument.- ... for me, currently being wrong is a good thing.
17. Waking up and only having a few minutes left until the alarm will sound.- Sometimes I like this though, feels like some kind of aha! I beat you, thing.
    
18. When you wear a good outfit but don’t run into anybody noteworthy all day.- Damn, this happens too often, I should probably make more effort to leave the flat though...
    
19. When you have to be a douche and shuffle through the bag to confirm that Taco Bell (or any other fast food joint) got your order correct.- Nah
20. The feeling of heartburn, self-hate and bubble guts that comes about 5-10 minutes after consuming Taco Bell (or any other fast food joint). - This happens to me after consuming white bread (usually baguette) or any other pleasurable white carb infest food (like pasta) which isn't the size of my scrunched fist. Stupid stomach (at least I have no problem with cake!).

Social 'rules'

1. Talking openly about therapy and anti-depressants.

Because of movies and TV and Woody Allen and my inherent assumption that everyone is as miserable as I am, for a long time I didn’t even know that therapy had a stigma. Most of America is on pills and it’s my belief that even the sanest person could benefit from a check-in with a shrink.

I don’t understand the big deal in admitting that you’re a little groggy because you’re switching up your psych meds. I don’t understand the big deal in quoting something your therapist said — and citing her — if it’s relevant to the conversation. It took me six months to catch on that the eye-blinking, stilted reactions I got from people when I casually referred to therapy as though it were a nail appointment was because it is a thing that other people think is an intimate and momentous admission. To me, dealing with head sickness is not so different from dealing with body sickness. We’re all a little scewed up in our own ways, just like we all have our own little ailments of poor circulation or back pain. So why don’t we talk about it the way we talk about Zicam and Advil? To me, chill openness about being in therapy or on meds reveals not craziness, but a mature interest in self-improvement, and even better, a bold declaration of a lack of shame. At least, that’s what my therapist told me.

I see these so often (and probably guilty of some of them myself)

“I should not eat that sandwich. That sandwich has bread. Bread has carbs. Carbs are the Judas of the food world; They will surely betray me.

EAT THAT GOD DAMN SANDWICH. I totally acknowledge that we all want to feel good about ourselves, but listen: find an exercise you like, do it, then eat ALL OF THE PIZZA at 3 in the morning. There is something so pathetically sad about living life in fear of food. (You end up spending more time fussing and thinking about food, instead of getting out there and enjoying other things!)

“I shouldn’t text him first, right? No way, I’m not gonna text him first. I mean, if he wants to see me, he should text me. Right?”

Sometimes right, but often wrong. Instances in which this is correct: you’ve texted him three times in the past two days and have gotten no response. You don’t remember his face and have him logged into your phone as “Guy mEt at PiananOs bar.” You don’t actually give a crap about him but are in need of something to do.

If none of these are true, grab the man-bull by the dating-horns and TEXT HIM. I see so many girls remain single because neither them nor the guy they want to date is willing to make the first (miniscule, harmless, “hey what are you doing tonight?”) move. (and it is SO painful to watch!!! and wasteful!!!) Take heed: you may have accidentally found yourselves on another direct path to pets and yogurt. 

My most uplifting moment

Two summers ago, I'd just moved back home after finishing university. I knew Neath was not my town.

One night, there was a comedy night at the local drudge rock pub called 'The Duke'. I was with my mum, step dad (though not married at the time) and step sis- I barely knew her then. It was a awkward relationship, similar to that feeling you get in a toilet room and being afraid of the sound of your own piss. Yes, we even had that moment when I lead her to the toilet in the interval.

The main act of the night was Pete Johansson. I think I had to drive mum home early because she just wasn't quite in the mood-  I think she was trying to adjust to Neath as well.

Most of the night, I can't it remember anymore. What stood out to me, were Pete's jokes, based around perspective and experiences he had had out in the desert. Presenting comedy to those fighting the war, one guy walked up to him afterwards and they went to shake hands. Though, the hand the audience member put forward didn't have a hand- he was still getting used to living with only one! I haven't told this story very well, but the perspective Pete shared was that even though these guys had fought through crap, they still laughed about it all!

The typical 'oh i'm so uplifted' title of this blog post is definitely not the most original sentence we have all heard- usually it's the kind for us all to roll our eyes at. You could say it was a memory of mine that cropped up in a moment when I wasn't feeling so great. Either way, I ended that night coming home, happy and with my family- as we crowded around a plate of white toast, butter and laughter.

Today was a much better day

and I made a bad ass lasagne!!! (first time, wahoo!)

Pre bake

 Ta daa!