Seventy-one pounds richer. Seventy-one millimetres shorter. Man it hurts being on your feet all day when you’re used to crawling! Ten hours with only a half hour break seemed a very long time but it does feel good to have got it done.
Day one went reasonably well; but definitely room for improvement. A little worried that I’ll be accused of stealing from the till as a couple of times it told me I should be handing over £200+ change. Obviously I didn’t…but how big a tip would they have given me if I did?! – Something to consider for tomorrow, certainly. Did burn one colleague’s hand…but managed to not injure a single customer. Not bad stats, I thought. I’m hoping our shifts don’t coincide again though – not a great way to make friends!
My favourite part of the day was escaping the café to pick litter with one of those claw thingies. Any completed grab felt disproportionately rewarding; but there was also a real element of challenge in the task, which onlookers may not have recognised, and which I myself had not been previously aware of. It stands to reason that – being so tiny – salt sachets are extremely difficult to grip with the claw…but I soon discovered that the torn off part is practically impossible; and this was the foundation of a viciously fought battle I had with myself. I honestly spent over five minutes struggling with one particular sachet, and must have looked a right plonker…but ohhh my, the satisfaction when the grab had been accomplished!
I also loved when I was taking a man’s order and his little boy, who was holding a toy plane, tugged at his sleeve and semi-whispered: ‘Daddy, how did Father Christmas make this plane so small?’ So cute!
Overall an OK day. Admittedly my dream career wouldn’t require you to wear a baseball cap to work, but it’s fine for now. Such a good feeling to be earning at last!
Felt very brave leaving Sam (we’ve only ever been away from each other for a couple of hours at a time before now); but the novelty of a new job tided me over ‘til lunch. Found it quite tricky that the place was swarming with toddlers – maybe not the best idea for our first day apart. I survived though. And once I get the hang of it maybe I will manage not to sob all the way home; or exhibit signs of road rage in a desperate attempt to get back before his bedtime.
I’d been moaning for ages that having Sam had stolen my identity, and had been quite looking forward to some time alone so I could feel ‘me’ again. But it felt all wrong; being Sam’s mum IS my identity, and without him there I didn’t feel like myself at all. I am a different girl than I was two years ago…and I am glad of it.