What can I say about life in the retail industry? It's a little mind numbing (not in a smoke a joint and play some video games kind of a way) but it passes the time. The people I work with are very nice and have actually told me I should leave and get a better job. The woman who told me that has been working at The Bay for nine years...maybe she should follow her own advice.
I'm feeling a little demoralized lately, despite all the "When I graduated I had to make falafel pitas for 12 hours a day to make money" pep talks. They aren't really working. I think it's because I know that deep down, I'm too lazy to do what it takes to get a better job. I could go knocking door to door, volunteer for shifts at CBC radio and pitch freelance stories to the newspapers. But I don't. I just put on my black Bay vest and name tag and head off for work. Where I smile all day and have a laugh with the girls and don't have to think about anything. It's Valium for the working girl.
The Gomery report came out today and didn't tell us anything we didn't already know. It was Halloween yesterday and I don't think I saw a single home made costume...how sad. What else? I started my ice skating class last week and I'm a SUPERSTAR. At least mediocrity hasn't followed me on to the ice.
1 comment:
I am jealous of your skating skills. Graceful, I am not.
So have you seen Don Newman's eyebrows? Why did he dye them dark brown? Ill-advised, Don.
I found my retail experience to be similar -- I often felt like I should have spent those three years finding jobs in my field or awesome summer internships, but I liked that I could turn parts of my brain off. Just smile, be nice to the customers, and chat with the co-workers while you put away the pantyhose. I did genuinely like a lot of my co-workers, so that helped.
Doesn't mean you're lazy or doomed. Sometimes you just need to check out for a little while. I will tell you this, and I don't mean it in a patronizing way -- it could be worse. You could be working at a call centre. Talk about demoralizing.
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