I Repeat: Never Try New Things

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After I failed at a full-time position a year ago, I was permitted to remain on the floor part-time. Now, I can’t even do that.

I learned recently my position was reverted to cashier entirely because I was terrible on the floor, even part-time. It’s worth mentioning I wasn’t told this until I questioned why my position was reverted back without my knowledge. While I’m more upset about being lied to for more than a year, and that they had no intention of telling me, the fact I’m incapable of nothing beyond the easiest job in retail is not helping my self-worth.

Yeah, yeah, work’s not supposed to be fun in the first place. I get that. But does it have to crush my soul too? I already I can’t do anything besides retail since retail is all I know. Now, I know I can’t do retail either. I’m going to be that person whose only work experience is decades spent as a cashier. And I know there are people who willingly do that, but I do not share the same goal.

My boss did ask if I want my position to be changed again, but warned me I won’t get as many hours (What hours?? Their payroll is in the toilet!). I declined. What’s the point of holding a position I’m considered awful in? But I’m not enthusiastic about literally being stuck in one spot for 8+ hours either. Not that I was ever in a rush to clock in, but let’s just say being contained in a small space for several hours lowers the priority.

I’m really wondering why there are even interviews for cashier positions. Yank a warm body off the street and throw them on the register. I imagine that would save every workplace ever a lot of time. The only requirements are the ability to read English and move your fingertips in whichever way you want them. Not kidding. Why the heck my boss over-exaggerates the so-called “importance” of this job is beyond me. I ought to just ask my boyfriend if I can let his niece do it. She gets excited about everything. She’ll learn in a day and no one will know the difference.

No, I’m not being sarcastic. This is very much how I feel about the “job” of a cashier. Yes, I know some people enjoy it, but I don’t, and I very much resent being “good” at it. I’m good at a job that can easily be replicated by someone a third of my age. And this job is supposed to matter in retail? I have an easier time believing there really is a tooth fairy.

If a small child has the capability to take your job, and the only reason they can’t is due to child labor laws, it’s useless. And while I’m not looking for my self-worth in a store, of all places, I can admit my job is useless within its industry. As much as I appreciate attempts not to hurt my feelings, lying (about my job performance) and over-blowing a job’s value is worse. Just tell me immediately so I can get over it.

I’m a cashier. I’m a dime a dozen. And there is nothing valuable about that, in or out of retail.

Though, Princess Luna is beautiful, even when she’s sad. Cheer up, Luna. Your job is more valuable than mine.

Almost Ten Years

I know 2019 started a week ago, but I want to talk about 2020 for a moment.

If I’m still where I am, August 2020 will mark ten years I have been living in the household I am. It wasn’t a choice. It was court-ordered when I was sixteen years old and I still hate them for it.

For some reason, I have a strange feeling about the last (almost) nine years I can’t quite place. I know what I was doing over those last nine years, but I feel like I don’t. I remember what happened in all those years, but I feel like those nine years passed by like a blur, despite I didn’t feel that way as they were passing. I can name significant events from each year, especially onward from 2015, but there’s still a disbelief I’ve been here for almost nine years because it does not feel like I have. I do have the feeling I’ve been here for too long, but not for nine years.

I don’t know if this is a normal feeling or a psychological trick by my brain. Either way, I do not want it to turn into ten years. That said, there is a terrifying feeling of where I will be if it doesn’t. Life isn’t a fairytale where everything always works out (even some fairytales subvert that), so there is the real possibility wherever I end up could be worse than where I currently am. That doesn’t mean I won’t try – I already am trying since I’m in school – but I’ve learned too many times the consequences of getting my hopes high.

At the moment, the month I’m looking forward to is April. Not because it’s the month of my birthday, but because it’s the month that will prove if my efforts were worth it. My final class is this month, I am supposed to take internship next month, and my class’s graduation date is March 6th. So, April will show me the outcome, if there is any, of what I’ve done. If it’s at least somewhat favorable, I won’t have to worry about that ten year mark. If not, I think that may be when I finally give up. Because, really, if the job I already have isn’t enough and school proves to have been worthless, what is left to try?

I won’t even wish for luck. I’ll wish for something – anything – good and hope I can get so much as that.

Eve of New Year’s Eve

Counting today, there are two more days left of 2018. Truthfully, I am glad. I hated this year and I’ve been dying for it to be over since it started. Usually, there’s something that makes me not entirely regret a bad year, but 2018 is not in that category. I can call it the second worst year of my life (first worst was 2010).

In chronological order, and from bad to worse:

  • I lost my full-time position because I couldn’t keep up with the workload. Actually, I had to step down from it to avoid being fired for incompetence. If I’d know taking a promotion meant putting your employment on the line, I never would’ve asked for it.
  • I had to delay school by two months for the very stupid reason of my birthday falling after the deadline! Seriously, what pompous a**hole thought that was a good set-up? I would’ve been done with school by now, and wouldn’t have had to struggle with the hell of juggling holiday hours and school hours.
  • Falling out with my sister. We didn’t get along to begin with, but she tried to blackmail me and attempted to start a family feud via my boyfriend. I very nearly cut our relationship completely because he went behind my back to her, but he apologized and I did find out part of it was her taking advantage of his anxiety (which does notoriously make him do stupid things).
  • The Black Friday shooting I was part of. I didn’t have the heart to return to that job, and I still haven’t set foot in that mall. I’ve thought about it, but knowing that’s an annual event at that mall is too much for me to feel good about going back. And yes, I know a shooting can happen anywhere, but when it’s so commonplace that knowing it happens every year is supposed to be comforting instead of terrifying, that’s not my idea of a safe working environment. Or shopping one, for that matter. (Interestingly, I’ve been more easily startled by loud sounds since this incident, especially crowd noise)

Not a damn good thing came out of this year, and I’d gladly burn it to the ground if I could. I don’t have hopes for 2019, especially since it’s supposed to (key word) be the year I finish trade school and go into the field I studied. Note to self: avoid anything to do with networking at all costs. I’m almost expecting it to be worse than 2018, considering certain circumstances I don’t feel like getting into.

500% done with this year!

Never Try New Things

Really, that’s the lesson I take from this whole experience.

I talked about this in one of my previous posts, but to summarize: I took a full-time position as a sales floor associate, failed miserably, did not improve in the slightest, and as I learned yesterday, I will be returning to part-time hours on the 11th of February.

Although, one of my bosses stated it as not being able to handle the responsibility rather than failing. I fail to see what difference exists there. I’m pretty sure incapability of handling a responsibility ultimately amounts to failing that responsibility.

No, it does not feel good to know the only thing I’m good at is what’s the easiest job there is at my workplace. This is like praising someone for being able to pass kindergarten while everyone else passes twelfth grade. I’m good at ringing, talking, and being punctual. Yay. I’m good at what a five-year-old can do.

One of the reasons I relate so much to Princess Luna. She knows what it’s like to be second-best. And in my case, not even that.

In the end, the whole experience turned out to be worthless. I ended up doing nothing except making a fool of myself (apparently, certain co-workers enjoy talking about me behind my back) and this is one of the times I strongly resent being an introvert. Were I an extroverted person, I wouldn’t have distaste for being a cashier and could possess the energy needed to avoid having the soul sucked out of me by dealing with several people for several hours straight.

The bright side, if it can be called that, is I am being permitted to remain on the floor and simply act as a back-up cashier, but it doesn’t change I really shouldn’t have tried something different to begin with. I wasted everyone’s time, including my own, and proved I can’t handle anything beyond standing in one place and operating a price gun. I did not expect to succeed anyway, but I also didn’t expect to not even show a hint of improvement and fall utterly flat on my face. I’m used to being slow. I’m not used to never getting past the starting line.

Ironically, another boss of mine, despite also agreeing I was horrendous at my soon-to-be-revoked position, believes if the opportunity arises, I should try again. Up until recently, this particular boss and I did not get along at all, so to come from his mouth, that’s hugely shocking. It’s not a suggestion I plan to take to heart, however. I am never asking for anything again. Everyone else can take the bigger jobs. I’ll stay at the bottom, the only place I can’t fail. Truthfully, I don’t think it’ll be long before I’m bested at even that, assuming I haven’t been already and I’m failing to be aware of it.

Too bad she can’t help with co-workers.

The Poison of Fandoms

First off, I want to say thank you to all those who still visited my blog, in spite of zero posts last month. A life of work and sleep leaves you little time to juggle all of the other parts of your life.

My last post was about Twilight Sparkle of MLP. I’ve watched more of the show in bits, and though she is still my favorite of the main/mane cast for personality, my most favorite characters are the setting’s rulers. However, this post isn’t about that.

I’ve been a part of fandoms, starting with the Sims, for seven years. I found out later on it was a grave mistake. Every fandom I’ve joined, especially those with a large following, proved itself to be a cesspool of poison. Essentially, there were rules about what made you a “true fan”, certain opinions were not allowed, and admins of certain areas proved to be extremely biased. Knowing this, it was very much against my better judgement to join a Facebook group for MLP, but in my new love for the show and excitement for the movie, I did. Within two days, I resigned. I suppose that’s a record.

The reason I left is, apparently, a fictional movie about ponies is serious business. So serious, any posted spoilers about said movie warranted banning any member who did so, and the admins, unsurprisingly, refused to consider they could be acting unreasonably (then again, I suppose that’s to be expected from someone who considers being the admin of a Facebook group a job). Remember, we are talking about a film of animation. Not poverty, war, hunger, homelessness, crime, abuse, or any other truly serious issue. A film aimed at under-aged girls. I love cartoons, something I’ve made very evident over the years, but it is not that serious. And I say this having bought an MLP shirt from the kids section at my job because it could fit me.

While the bright side is I wasn’t alone in my opinion (other members of the group agreed and were probably shortly kicked out, and members of the Disney group I’m in agreed that was out of line as well), it saddens me how difficult it is to find a community of any fandom that is rational and tolerant. It seems the only exception to this rule are small communities, which truly is a shame. Having had my love of so many things murdered by their fandoms, one of which I ranted about for a good while, I certainly didn’t want my merely one-month-old love of MLP to fall to the same fate, especially not at the childishness of Facebook warriors in a group I was a part of for two days, and with the movie coming out so soon. I left before my love for the show could take a heavy hit. But I can’t say I’m not disappointed with how poorly things turned out. Perhaps it was deserved for allowing my excitement to cloud my better judgment against joining the group to begin with.

I realize it is the internet, and social media websites in particular are notorious for being wells of addictive, yet poisonous muck. As much as I dislike it, it makes me understand the stereotype of people in fandoms being anti-social recluses with little going on in their lives. It’s a painful thing to admit, possessing so many loves of so much light-hearted media myself, but the toxicity I’ve found across so many fandoms isn’t allowing me to deny or be confused about why the stereotype exists. After all, why would someone who is content and enjoying their life feel the need to be controlling over something so trivial? The internet permits a huge amount of imaginary power, and power is addicting.

Of course, in the end, fandoms aren’t needed to keep a love of something going. I still have every intention of seeing MLP’s film and I am still very much fawning over the show. While the show’s lessons are occasionally questionable, perhaps the admins of that group missed the second half of the title: friendship is magic. I’m sure Twilight Sparkle, the princess of friendship, would be disappointed.