The Doldrums of Routine

I fear this is destined to be a short update, as my life of late has been less than noteworthy. Go to work, come home, do homework, sleep, go back to work, then take a class. At any rate I'll do my best to find enough happenings to make it a decent post. Here we go.

I don't think I talked any about my accounting class in any of my previous updates, so I'll start there. I decided to take a six-week accounting class at the local community college to help boost my GPA and free up some room in my schedule so I don't have 18 credit semesters down the road. My previous experience with Anne Arundel Community College had prepared me for a thoroughly wacky, yet ultimately positive experience I took Spanish and Math there during my senior year of high school. During those classes, I met among others: A bubbly goth girl, an architect who I think might have been Israeli, or at least of Israeli descent, a crazy spanish professor, and a substitute math professor who wrote "Klaatu Barata Nikto" on the board during a final exam, with no explanation (I later googled it and found out that it was what the alien in "The Day The Earth Stood Still" said which saved the world, apparently.

So needless to say I expected some wackiness, and I got it. The class is great, and only at a community college will you have such a diverse mix of people in a class. An Arab man, a Ukranian girl, a dude who already has his MBA but for some reason is taking Accounting 212, a guy who has left both his wallet and a pair of Oakley's sunglasses behind on succeeding Wednesdays, and a guy who spends class playing what I suspect is illegal online poker. Maybe he counts his losses as "accounts payable". (Did I just make an accounting joke? Yeesh.) We're already almost at the second test, and moving at a good clip towards the end of the class. Kinda weird considering we've only had 5 classes. Overall I'm liking it, so I guess that's good.

In addition to classes, I'm working more and more as time goes on. My bosses have been giving me more hours, which is good. However, depending on how slow/busy we are, time can move pretty dang slowly. If we're empty, and I've got nothing to do to occupy my mind, no matter how long my shift is it feels like an eternity. On the other hand, if we're busy, and I have plenty to do, an eight and a half hour shift can feel like ten minutes. It's hit-or-miss I guess. I'm especially glad to just have something to do during the days. Back when I didn't have a job I was unbelievably BORED. Now that I'm at Pottery Barn, my life feels much more balanced.

If you're reading this post for the first time then congratulations! Everything from here until the last paragraph is material which was not in the original blog post since it happened the night after I wrote it. Consider yourself as reading the "Special Extended Edition" of WDJP.

Well, since originally writing this entry, I realized that it was sorely lacking in the sort of semi-amusing life incidents I normally try to stock this thing with. Fortunately, life decided to heap such things upon my head during the shift I just finished working. Strangely enough, for the first time, I heard comments about my wearing a tie to work every day, and not just one or two, but about six different incidents centered around my tie today, and I have never before even had one person mention it before now, and I've worked at Pottery Barn for about a month.

First off, about ten minutes after I got there, my coworker Mary asked "Why do you always wear a tie? Nobody else does, they all just wear collared shirts." I replied that I actually preferred having a tie on if I had to wear a collared shirt, just because that's what I'm used to, since I spent my high school years as a debate nerd. Next, a coworker who had never worked with me before started acting kinda weird and showing me around the story like I didn't work there. About ten minutes later I discovered that, because of my tie, she had assumed that I was an inspector sent by corporate headquarters to check up on performance.

As if this wasn't enough notice of my neck adornment for one day, two hours later some employees from other companies in the mall owned by Williams-Sonoma Corp. (which owns Pottery Barn) were shopping, and they kept asking me design questions, "in my professional opinion." Finally they realized that, contrary to what my tie had apparently led them to believe, I was not the new visual coordinator but was in fact just a dude who had a tie on. Even this was not the end of my adventures in confusing people with a striped piece of silk. On my dinner break no less, I was approached in Borders by a man who wanted to know where he could find the biography of Nelson Mandela, only for him to realize that I was not an employee of Borders, but was, in fact, just an overdressed browser. Finally, after we closed, the final tie incident occured. I had been teasing Katherine, one of my coworkers, while I was stuffing some pillows, and she decided to retaliate by announcing loudly to the entire remaining workforce over her walkie-talkie that I wore a tie "because I was a proud member of the Williams-Sonoma Workforce." Fortunately, no one else heard because unbeknownst to her (and I somehow forgot to mention to her) that her battery light was flashing and the walkie wasn't transmitting.

Other than that I've not really been doing a whole lot of any interest. Once I save up enough to get my new computer I hope to make a video out of the "Real History of the Roman Empire" notes I wrote on Facebook, but writing about what I plan to do is sorta cheating, so I'll go ahead and end here. Until next time, sayonara!