can't deal
May 30. 2000

After my first day of work, I came to two conclusions:

a. This job is boring and monotonous and mind numbing, and I can't possibly see how I am going to work here this summer without my brain atrophying. I am on my feet for 8 hours straight.

b. I have to keep this job because I need the money, and if I don't my father will never let me forget what a quitter I am.

So there you have it. Today was a blur, really. I had an orientation of sorts first, lasting about an hour, and then went right to work. I am a picker, which means I pack all sorts of software and hardware into boxes and then push them onto a little conveyor belt. It's boring and tiring.

Today I alternated between welling up with tears to anger to thinking that maybe I would be okay. During my lunch break I nearly lost it and went home. Strange as it seems, a literary reference for my situation came to mind. I felt like Laura in "The Glass Menagerie"*, when she lies to her mother and pretends to be going to typing class when in fact she dropped out the second day because she couldn't handle it, and wanders around the city going to the zoo and library instead. I had brief illusions of doing that, but I knew it would do me no good. As is now the mantra, I need the money.

The people I'm working with are really nice, though. They showed me how to do everything, and I caught on quickly. It's really not too hard. Liz, who I think is the woman in charge of my section, is a grandmotherly old lady, and very sweet. The other two women, Ceta and Suko, are really nice as well. I talked with Suko at length, and as it turns out, she has a daughter graduating from my former high school next week.

The thing is, I can't imagine doing this for a living, like, 365 days a year. I guess I'm spoiled, but I'm not used to doing something for a job that doesn't challenge mentally all the time. I guess that's just the nature of the jobs I've held before.

The building is brand new and quite lovely. I have a nice little locker and a pass card to get me into everywhere. I have to go through metal detectors every time I go into the building, because the parts we are working with are very expensive in some cases and there have been thefts. As necessary as I know this is, it's still a little offensive to me.

I came home and was immediately confronted with twenty questions by my parents, which I was not in the mood to answer. I went upstairs and slept for 3 hours. Then I came downstairs, was interrogated again, and finally just retreated upstairs again, where I cried for a while for a variety of reasons, not all of which were job related.

It's not been a good day.

*Incidentally, "The Glass Menagerie" is what I wrote my open essay on for the AP English test, which I got a 5 on. I love that play.

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