Not wanting to submit to redundancy I am swearing off all further entries regarding my job. I just can't resist writing about how much I absolutely despise my line of work. I thought this summer would be bearable at the very least--come home from college, work at the grocery store, save a few dollars with the hope of finding an apartment of my own for next summer. Within minutes of being put on register two months ago I hated it all over again. Why am I so unhappy? Other people don't seem to be bothered by the menial labor, the rude customers and the dragging time. I complain five times as much as those who have been at that store ten times more than I have, as if my lot in life just so happened to be the worst. Perhaps it helps to describe the exact emotions and cognitive processes experienced upon starting my shift.

I wake up and evaluate how much time I have to revel in freedom before I report to my place of employment. Can I go to the bank? Will I make it to the gym? Can I take an extra long shower? Will I miss Dr. Phil? Upon arrival I instantly feel a sense of dread. When those automatic doors open I can hear the incessant beep of the registers, the slamming shut of the cash drawers, the hum of the fluorescent lights and the desperate calls from cashiers to break a fifty dollar bill. It dawns on me that the next six or so hours are to be spent in this morbid establishment. The store literally sucks the life out of me, especially on warm beautiful days when I know I could be outside. I hate all the customers. How dare they need food? How could they even think about coming onto my line? Many of them could starve for a few days and suffer no dire consequences. As the days limps onward I force myself to keep my eyes off the clock--that makes the time go slower. While scanning groceries I employ as many tactics as possible to keep my mind off my current task. I plan my wedding even though I'm not going to get married. I think about what it would be like to run three miles without stopping and how I will try to do so at the gym the next day. I imagine a famous person coming on my line or what car I will be driving when my ten year high school reunion comes around. Sometimes, and this is sad to say, I plan out my own funeral. I think about an especially gruesome way to die and envision those who would come to my wake. I wonder if they would cry or if my colleagues at the grocery store would miss me. I think about going to graduate school and getting a big dog and how I would train it to attack intruders. All of these random, unrelated thoughts careen through my brain during my shift and sometimes I begin to wonder if I am losing it. Then again I would be worse off if all I could think about is each item I am scanning without ever wanting something better for myself.

After I have exhausted all mental resources I become bored and frustrated. We are not allowed to read while there are no customers but I do so anyway until I am told to stop. I look for any possible way to avoid being on register, including buying coffee and dinner for other employees. The countdown till punching out begins about an hour in advance. That one hour is a golden, beaming light signaling impending freedom. The apex of my day is clocking out and walking through the glass doors.

Never in my life have I thoroughly despised something such as this job. I am miserable at my job and when I am home I am constantly dreading the next shift. I find solace in knowing that this is only temporary, that someday I will be the person demanding paper and plastic. I feel as though I have really let myself down. If I looked a little harder maybe I could have found something more enjoyable, but no, I settled for less. I know now that I am not a settler. I won't stop until I am satisfied and I will go to great lengths to achieve happiness. I always tell myself that if I was paid more I wouldn't complain so much but that is not the case. No amount of money could remedy the mental rigor mortis I experience while at work. A change must ensue. A drastic, life changing, mammoth of a change shall follow this monotony. I have a good idea of what is to come but I don't want to get my hopes up. Right now my life can go anywhere, and I have sworn to myself that under no circumstances will I return to this horrid occupation. None whatsoever.

Working in retail has been a mostly miserable yet beneficial experience. I have learned the art of dealing with the human race, starting conversations, kissing a little ass, computing totals in my head, and I have a general sense of the way the world works. Plus I bought a car with the money so I can't say it was all in vain. In a year from now this job will be only a distant memory.