(no subject)
Working full time now, a grueling 10-11 hour day five or six days a week, working at a cookie bakery/factory type place. It actually isn't tooo bad, just legs get tired standing a lot. Basically I do everything from mopping, dishwashing, gruntwork to cookie prep, icing, baking, molding, and everything in between. I have seen more cookies in one day than I had ever seen in my entire life, and there are just more and more coming. Tomarrow for instance I believe we have to churn out 15000 cookies. They're mostly the holiday type, flour base with icing/frosting stuff, and not like regular chocolate chip or oatmeal raisin or something. It's quite popular supposedly, www.supercookie.com is the site. Used to be a small place ni Chicago, but as they grew onilne, they moved to Skokie, a suburb right outside Chicago, and do their business purely online now. Long tiring hours, an hour and a half travel time with two miles of it being walking, and working with Mexicans (looool Jenna), but it'll bring in decent $. It's going to be a whole lot of virtually nothing but work and sleep for awhile, but money is money. Hoping to move to another apartment within a few months, possibly the end of this year or early next year and actually start saving some money and generate profit so I can afford school.
Earlier today while shoving pans into the oven, I got to thinking about things. Despite my usual attitude of being extremely carefree in many things, where I have virtually no preference, wear and act however I like, viewing life threatening things with a casual detachment, inside I am really, really, self conscious. Enter Kurdt Kobain moment here. Despite what I say, I care very much what others think of me, and am way way overly self conscious. Take my insisting of wearing of long sleeves all the time, even during the hottest summer days- I hate, hate, showing how skinny I am to everyone and prefer to hide it as best as I can under clothing. Of course, in a kitchen/bakery environment, that's a nono since we're working with foodstuffs and dishes and everything, and sleeves have to be rolled up. With great trepidation I rolled up my sleeves, and of course nobody said a word- yeah, I'm skinny, who cares, go on. Still, I was almost freaking out. Yes, it's stupid. Yes, I have probz. But gah. I still felt weird and hated going around with my arms bare to my elbows.
I also finally realized today that I am really paranoid in terms of my own death. While I have no real fear of it, and would greatly regret if I was to die tomarrow, I'd still view it with detachment. This doesn't mean that I don't think about it constantly when working in potentially dangerous environments. Whenever I'm operating the ovens, I keep wondering if I'll somehow fall into it and get roasted alive, or the weird ping meant that it was about to collapse and I'd have a bar of iron through my head. I keep thinking how I would react with half my arms ripped off, would I scream in utter hysteria or would I stand there, staring at a stump of an arm? Am I manipulating the proper controls, or will I be blowing the entire place to kingdom come? Will I be responsible for the deaths of everyone inside?
Hell, I get paranoid about just random people passing me on the streets. I always tense up whenever passing someone whenever I'm walking somewhere, especially at night. I'm gripping all my knives, ready to twist aside and defend myself. I stare at cars that pass, peering at the driver, getting a glimpse of their profile, see if they're following me or whatever.
Augh. I don't know. Maybe I should just be locked up in a big white room and kept there for the rest of my life. Maybe my mind's a lot mor emessed up than I ever thought I was and I'm clinincally insane without realizing it.
Anyway. I am exhausted. Really want my paycheck for this week, I want to splurge on a nice restaurant with REAL FOOD. Small apartment means tiny ass crap kitchen means hard to make anything decent. The first thing I'm going to ask when looking for new apts is going to be "HOWS UR KITCHEN." I am tired of eating like crap and need decent wholesome food in me.
I think I'll put up an ad on craigslist or something asking for neck and back massages.
EDIT- also really really random, but wtf is with me and seeing Andrew lookalikes everywhere. Almost every day I see someone whom I could have sworn was Andrew, and even saw some Bretts a few times.
Earlier today while shoving pans into the oven, I got to thinking about things. Despite my usual attitude of being extremely carefree in many things, where I have virtually no preference, wear and act however I like, viewing life threatening things with a casual detachment, inside I am really, really, self conscious. Enter Kurdt Kobain moment here. Despite what I say, I care very much what others think of me, and am way way overly self conscious. Take my insisting of wearing of long sleeves all the time, even during the hottest summer days- I hate, hate, showing how skinny I am to everyone and prefer to hide it as best as I can under clothing. Of course, in a kitchen/bakery environment, that's a nono since we're working with foodstuffs and dishes and everything, and sleeves have to be rolled up. With great trepidation I rolled up my sleeves, and of course nobody said a word- yeah, I'm skinny, who cares, go on. Still, I was almost freaking out. Yes, it's stupid. Yes, I have probz. But gah. I still felt weird and hated going around with my arms bare to my elbows.
I also finally realized today that I am really paranoid in terms of my own death. While I have no real fear of it, and would greatly regret if I was to die tomarrow, I'd still view it with detachment. This doesn't mean that I don't think about it constantly when working in potentially dangerous environments. Whenever I'm operating the ovens, I keep wondering if I'll somehow fall into it and get roasted alive, or the weird ping meant that it was about to collapse and I'd have a bar of iron through my head. I keep thinking how I would react with half my arms ripped off, would I scream in utter hysteria or would I stand there, staring at a stump of an arm? Am I manipulating the proper controls, or will I be blowing the entire place to kingdom come? Will I be responsible for the deaths of everyone inside?
Hell, I get paranoid about just random people passing me on the streets. I always tense up whenever passing someone whenever I'm walking somewhere, especially at night. I'm gripping all my knives, ready to twist aside and defend myself. I stare at cars that pass, peering at the driver, getting a glimpse of their profile, see if they're following me or whatever.
Augh. I don't know. Maybe I should just be locked up in a big white room and kept there for the rest of my life. Maybe my mind's a lot mor emessed up than I ever thought I was and I'm clinincally insane without realizing it.
Anyway. I am exhausted. Really want my paycheck for this week, I want to splurge on a nice restaurant with REAL FOOD. Small apartment means tiny ass crap kitchen means hard to make anything decent. The first thing I'm going to ask when looking for new apts is going to be "HOWS UR KITCHEN." I am tired of eating like crap and need decent wholesome food in me.
I think I'll put up an ad on craigslist or something asking for neck and back massages.
EDIT- also really really random, but wtf is with me and seeing Andrew lookalikes everywhere. Almost every day I see someone whom I could have sworn was Andrew, and even saw some Bretts a few times.