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On Christmas
December 21, 2006
God definitely has it out for me on Christmas. I’m still convinced that I deserve miserable Decembers due to the fact that since I turned nine, I abandoned spending no less than 80 minutes before bed pointing out no less than 80 items that needed blessings that day. Like that guy I saw on the street? Who scratched his finger against the rusted edge of a garbage can? Please don’t let him contract tetanus and bring it home to his puppies, God. Please God! PLEASE!
My logic also likes to work in the way which makes sure for every good thing that happens, something bad will absolutely account for it. Did you enjoy Christmas this year, Rachel? Good! Because your 21st birthday is going to suck ass.
Besides the common annoyances like avoiding Christmas shopping until the very last minute so as not to extend the misery and being forced into overly crowded malls with stores that appear to be having sales but only on their items which were overpriced by at least double to begin with, I started working at a restaurant.
I will say, I did seriously underestimate the industry. Usually while playing Diner Dash, I would throw the game aside in frustration. No human being could possibly attend to that many tables and know exactly which customers need water or checks at any given moment.
Well, they do, and they must. And those massive trays they balance with one hand? They come easier with time. And the tips? Fantastic.
And the long hours that make it seem like I’m not on a break from college at all? Pure shit.
Categories: Daily, Holidays, Jobs
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