I can’t help but think, every time I go in for work, that this is what I’ve dedicated my so-called “potential” to.
See, in school, before things really got a grip on me and I dropped out (luckily later I got my GED), I was smart. Smart probably isn’t even the word to describe it – intelligent would work. I was seventeen with the mind of a fifty-year-old. To this day, I like to think that I’m an old soul. Get me into a deep conversation and I’ll say things that will blow your mind. Hell, put a few beers in my hand and I’ll get philosophical on you. I was in honors Spanish my last year of high school and passed it. I got the jokes that our science teacher would make when no one else in the class did. I was also musically talented and did well in band class. I also had a decent singing voice in choir. I also aced every test in English and American history and got into at least the top ten in Young Writers more times than I can even remember.
I have an IQ of 127. While that’s not genius, it’s definitely not average either. On the IQ scale, 127 ranks as “superior intelligence.” It won’t get me into Mensa but it’s not something I’m ashamed of, either. On my GED exam, I passed English (both part one, grammar, and part two, writing) with a PERFECT SCORE. I never did well with math but rocked just about every other subject. I was (and still am) especially atuned to English and grammar. In fact, so much so, that one of my friends calls me a “grammar nut.” I don’t know what it is, but improper grammar, spelling, and proununciation bug the hell out of me.
What did I do with it? I became a fucking waitress.
I’m not down-talking my job. I take pride in it, if for nothing else, for the simple fact that I have a job, which is more than I can say for a lot of people I know. Sure, it may not be the most glamorous job in the world but it pays my bills and keeps my head above water. It also tests my ability to deal with the public, as I’m not a people person and most likely never will be a people person. And sometimes, just sometimes, I actually make decent money doing it.
One of my co-workers tells me that I need to go to college. She says, “You’re smart. You could learn something. You don’t want to be stuck doing this for the rest of your life.” She’s been doing it longer than I’ve been alive. Sadly though, that’s what I see when I don that uniform – a lifer. I see someone who is condemned to relying on the kindness of the public for the rest of her life, someone who slaps on a big, plastic smile and pretends that she’s very happy doing what she’s doing, all the while knowing deep down inside that it embitters her more and more every single day.
So why do I do this? Well first, the place I currently work was the first place to call me back after I’d been applying all over town. It also seemed like something I could pick up fairly quickly (which I did). It’s also because I made a few crappy choices in my life and I now have the price to pay for them.
Do I want to better myself? You could bet your last dollar on that. I don’t want to be a waitress – at least by career – for the rest of my life. I want to do something better with myself. Maybe I’ll get better at guitar and actually do something with my musical talent and my voice. Maybe I’ll become a writer or a journalist. I don’t want to do this forever though. This is my stepping stone, or at least, I like to think it is. It’s a job, and it pays the bills, but I don’t want to look back in twenty years, still waiting tables, and think about the mind, the talent, and the “potential” that I fucking wasted.
I got home from work about an hour ago and decided to crack a beer instead of having that tea I mentioned earlier. I got suckered into working tomorrow even though I’m sick and really wanted (and probably needed) the day off. OK, I didn’t really get suckered into it – the one who asked me to work part of her shift for her had something else to do and I could use the money anyway, despite the fact that my head feels like a water balloon and I had to refrain from sneezing snot all over each and every table tonight. A few tables gave me a weird look – you know, that look that says, “Why is this sick bitch handling my food?” I did them a courtesy though and didn’t sneeze in front of them, and I also tried not to cough. I tried to make my voice sound as normal as possible. I also washed my hands until they were almost raw and probably went through a gallon of hand-sanitizer in just one shift. It went OK though – I got some decent tips tonight (my tip percentage based on my sales was roughly around 20%). Then again, a lot of them were probably pity tips. Maybe it’ll work again tomorrow. That is, if I don’t get sent home early for being sick. I’ve seen it happen plenty of times, and besides, I have to work with Boss Man and Boss Lady tomorrow all day as opposed to A, and Boss Man is the one who usually sends the sick people home. I’ve only left early once for being sick, and that’s only because I was puking and absolutely could not make it through the whole day.
That’s all for now. Nothing too interesting tonight, really. Same shit, different day. (As if it’s ever really much different.)
I’ve been severely slacking on posting lately. I haven’t posted anything since….damn, I don’t know when.
I have a terrible cold today (and I’m sure my lunch of Beanie Weenees and a couple of leftover hot wings from my night at the bar last night won’t help my health). It’s a bitch that it got bad too, since I have to work tonight and I can’t afford to call off. With the cold, all I can really do is wash my hands a lot at work, use roughly a gallon of hand sanitizer in one shift, refrain sniffling, coughing, or sneezing in front of customers, and pray that my voice doesn’t give away that I’m sick.
Speaking of work, I am looking for a second job. Circumstances here in a couple of months will basically demand for me to get a second job to keep my head above water. I barely do it with a roommate and the one job I have right now. With my roommate leaving, I definitely have to find a second source of income. Waiting tables just isn’t going to cut it – even if it would, it would be cutting it very, very close, without a penny to spare. I am also looking at getting a new roommate, even if I get a second job – it sure as hell would make it a lot easier on me for sure.
I turned 21 earlier this month. I just got my permit a few days later – yes, I am 21 and this is the first time I’ve had my driving permit. So far, I’m not doing too badly with it, and I really enjoy driving. I used to be scared of it, which is one of the reasons I haven’t had my permit until now. The first time I drove I was very nervous, but a few weeks later, I’m getting much better at it (or so I hope).
Obviously with turning 21 comes a lot of drinking. I’m enjoying being able to go to a bar and have a drink or just buy some beer and go home with it to drink. I still have yet to buy my own bottle of liquor though. Then again, I generally don’t drink much liquor anyway.
The job is still shitty. I have quite a story for a post later, but I think I should let it sit for a while. It doesn’t have to do with a customer, it has to do with someone in the workplace, and I’m not risking my job over this shit. Actually, I have a few stories that pertain to co-workers, all of which should come soon enough, goodness willing I’m able to motivate myself to write in here more. I just don’t want to tell them right now because they all deserve posts of their own and I don’t want the stories to be too new when I post them. I like the anonymity thing I have going on with this blog and I don’t want to risk that.
Anyway, I should get up off my bum and get ready for work, seeing as how I have to be there in an hour and a half. I just got up from a nap that I was hoping would refresh me a bit. It kind-of-sort-of did. Hopefully I’ll make some good money tonight, seeing as how my wallet’s getting pretty strapped at the moment. I think what I need to do tonight after work though is come home, drink some tea, chill out, and try to kick this cold.
But we’ll get to the lesson in a minute.
In my second post, I talked about my chronic insomnia. Well, it’s now almost 5:30 AM and I’m wide awake. I actually probably would have been able to sleep earlier, but one of my friends needed someone to talk to at 2:30 AM and I let her come over and talk. After we talked and laughed for a while, I was a little too wound up so I decided to come back into my room and just mess around on the computer. I got to thinking about how I am getting a USB data cable here in a few days for my cell phone, so I can back up everything and do a hard reset on it to see if that fixed a lot of the problems I’ve been having with it. I happened, in my internet search on this topic, upon a video of someone going into engineering mode on their cell phone.
Here’s where the trouble begins.
I found “factory reset” in engineering mode. I thought it would have some sort of confirmation (I had actually seen “factory reset” on the phone options before, and that time it had a confirmation) before it actually reset the phone, so I selected that – big mistake. It starts to reset the phone. I start freaking out – a year of my life is on this phone, pictures, ringtones, etc. FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK. I select the “close” option.
It’s too late.
So now I sit here with an almost brand-new phone. The only things saved were the things on my memory card (most of my pictures, thank goodness) and what was on my SIM card (luckily, all of my contacts were backed up onto my SIM). But, I did lose ringtones and some other stuff, which makes me really sad. But maybe the cloud has a silver lining, because so far, shit that didn’t want to work before is now suddenly working again on my cell phone. But still, I learned an important lesson tonight:
Don’t fuck around with engineering mode on a cell phone if you don’t know what the hell you’re doing.
Most people I know have some sort of set schedule when it comes to sleep. They might be day sleepers, they might sleep at night like we’re programmed to do, but either way, they go to sleep around a certain time and wake up around a certain time.
I’m not like that.
I have, quite possibly, the most fucked-up sleep pattern on the planet (short of fatal familial insomnia, I suppose). Sometimes I’ll crash as early as 10:00 PM. Other nights – like tonight – it’s 4:00 AM and I’m still awake. I haven’t even tried to sleep though, to be honest. I usually don’t try to sleep until I actually get tired. I’m not really one to fight sleep – if I’m sleepy, then I’ll go to bed. I know that even as a little girl my sleep patterns were screwed up, and I hated to have to go to sleep. Now, I relish going to sleep. That’s probably because I don’t get nearly as much sleep as I should.
Now I’m starting to think that I’m contradicting myself because in my intro post I said I am overly caffeinated, and it’s the truth, but I try not to drink too much caffeine close to bedtime because I know it will make my insomnia worse. I try everything. I take diphenhydramine on pretty much a regular basis (although I’m pretty sure that’s not the healthiest thing in the world), and I try to regulate my sleep patterns. I can’t do it though. My sleep pattern will be regular for a few nights, then it gets messed up again. I hate to complain about it because I know I could have it worse (if you read that article on fatal familial insomnia), but come on, sleep is a basic necessity for the healthy functioning of the human body. Food, water, clothing, shelter, and sleep – you’re good to go. If you’re lacking any one of those things, chances are, you’re not a healthy individual. Luckily I have the food, the water, the clothing, and the shelter. It’s the sleep thing that’s out of my reach.
Now, since it’s 4:00 AM, even though I’m not tired, I guess I could try to sleep, huh?
But this is the first time I’ve ever used WordPress. In my younger days, I used Xanga. I’ve also been known to use Blogspot, and I’m no stranger to the blogging feature on MySpace nor the notes on Facebook. WordPress is totally different though, at least from what I can tell. Ah well – I wanted some sort of anonymity, and I figured in order to earn that, I’d have to use a totally different platform, so here I am.
I guess maybe I should try to tell you as much about myself as I can without giving up my identity as a whole. I’m twenty years old and I reside in the Eastern part of the United States. (I’ll give you a hint: I’m from the state that is the brunt of every inbred, backwoods, hick joke in the book.) I’m a waitress. It wasn’t so much a choice as it was one of those situations where beggers can’t be choosers. To be honest, being a waitress sucks more than a hooker on Valentine’s Day, but I guess it has its moments. You’ll hear a lot about my job on here, believe me. (Hence the “anonymity” part.) Sometimes you’ll hear about my personal life too. Then sometimes you’ll just hear the complete and utter nonsense that tends to pour from my overly caffeinated, underestimated mind.
I enjoy music a lot. I can (kinda-sorta) play guitar. OK, so I really only know a handful of chords, but one thing I’d like to accomplish in my 21st year is to play a bit more. I love to sing, although because A) I have a roommate, B) I live in an apartment complex, and C) I tend to be a loud singer, I don’t really do it much anymore. I think my overall persona is a cross between your everyday generic rocker chick with a few quirks that make me not-so-generic. (For example, I am twenty years old and I sleep with a stuffed animal. How’s that for a quirk?) I read a lot too, and I’ll read just about anything. Books, magazines, articles, pamphlets, the back of the cereal box….you get the picture. I’m sarcastic and cynical but quiet and reserved at the same time, although I doubt the “quiet and reserved” part will shine through much in this blog, seeing as how it’s going to be my venting spot. Mention SETI or Chernobyl and I’ll geek out. I’ve recently gone on a workout/eat healthier kick. Considering that I also smoke a pack a day and drink like nobody’s business, we’ll see how long that lasts.
As for my name on here – Burnt Karma – well, that’s exactly how my life goes I guess. One way or another, karma’s always burning.