Welp, I’m a little sad because one of my coworkers just left for a new job. Although at the same time I’m glad he got out of there, because, well, yes, it’s a nice place to work, but in my experience people who are in their thirties and still working grocery are there because something else didn’t work out. And they never end up leaving.
Anyway, that’s what’s on my mind right now, but I’m actually writing this post to tell you about the way I’ve been cheering myself up lately. Which also has to do with work at the grocery store. Like Nadia taught me the letters zero through nine in the Arabic system, which is actually the Indian system…because when western culture stole the Arabic numbers, Arabic-speaking people stole the Indian numbers. Here they are as done on Paint (not as good as when I write them by hand):
And then Friday my boyfriend bought me a Minion from McDonald’s. I named him Phil and put him on my register for the duration of my shift…but then he mysteriously vanished shortly before I left for the night. Sad Lizzie.
And then today I snuck into the children’s education building at the botanical gardens to snatch some artwork from Thursday’s camp. (Two pieces of mine, plus a drawing of me that one of the campers did.) I laminated them and brought them to work, where they sat under my register until I punched out. Then I snuck into the meat department and taped them to the wall. The picture drawn by my camper is labeled “A portrait of the artist as a young grocery store worker.” Then it has a disclaimer saying that I did not, in fact, draw it. But it’s clearly me. I mean, the face is a little generic, but it’s got a ponytail and the black tank top I wore to camp on Thursday.
So just the thought of doing such things cheers me up, because I laugh at myself a little every time I see my pictures displayed on the wall like a proud six-year-old’s art hanging on the fridge. Or every time a customer picked up the Minion and said, “Oh, did someone forget this?” and I claimed ownership.
And this Thursday I’ll be driving back up toward Marine City for the St. Clair County 4-H and Youth Fair. I’m really looking forward to that.
Still a bit sad about my coworker, though. Sometimes he called me “sister” or “little sister,” which is probably just something he says without thinking about it (the way I say “sir” to random people who are not that formal or much older than me), but it was nice. I don’t have any brothers, and while I wouldn’t have wanted to put up with brothers’ shenanigans when I was younger, now that I’m older I think it’d be nice to have an older brother. To beat people up for me and stuff. Okay, maybe not that, but I still think it’d be nice. Aaaand now I don’t have anyone to call me sister anymore.
Oh, well. I still have artwork on the meat department walls, waiting to surprise the guys when they come in tomorrow. As much as I’ll enjoy my day off tomorrow, I’m looking forward to seeing their reactions when I go back on Wednesday.