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.

I Failed

At life.

One of the goals of my school is preparing students to take a certain exam. It’s not a school exam! It’s actually a… government one? I’m unsure how to describe it without giving away the name, but it’s essentially proof someone is certified to work in the field we’re training for and is recognized nationally.

I have recently decided I am not taking it.

I have studied, and I’ve found it does no good. I can be asked a question right after I have finished reading a whole chapter and be unable to recall what the question even pertains to, let alone answer it correctly. There are practice exams for the real one. I tried one. I didn’t know the answer to any of the questions, despite reading enough material that would’ve covered it. I didn’t bother going through the whole practice test. I closed it after question 7.

We do get a certificate from the school. I think I’m going to take that and go, and try to do the best I can with that. I am not academic material. I think I figured that out a long time ago, but I assumed that’s because I hated school to begin with. I genuinely like this school and I do study, and I am still terrible. There is zero chance of me passing the real exam, and since it’s only free the first time around (school provides a voucher), I don’t exactly have unlimited chances to pass. I’d rather not take it at all, and no, I am not going to “wing it” in the hopes the planets will align and grant me a passing score. I like fairytales. I am not dumb enough to believe in them.

Supposedly, you’re not supposed to memorize material you study. That concept makes zero sense to me. Why would you study it if you didn’t want to remember it? The point of studying is to be able to retain enough information to pass whatever tests you need to pass.

That exam is also timed. Ninety minutes to answer ninety questions. Even if I had a chance of passing, the time limit would kill me.

This isn’t Disney. “Positive thinking” and “believe in yourself” does not work. I don’t think even Disney has ever been that shallow. Of course, if those things did work, “hard work” would be non-existent since everyone would be successful with no more than merely thinking of it, meaning no one would have to work for anything. Don’t people complain my generation only wants things handed to them anyway? “Think positive” seems to prove them right.

My vent is over. And so are my chances.

Hope Is Wasted On The Hopeless

In three days, I return to school. After all of the nonsense that happened, I should be happy to return, especially since I don’t have to pay as much as I initially did. The key word in that sentence is should.

I should be happy. But I’m not.

To pay off what financial aid did not cover, I have to make monthly payments, the first of which was due on the day I start school. Unfortunately, the time between receiving that balance and its due date were too close. While I have savings for this kind of expense, I’d rather not use it if I can help it. The result was I split the payment between my most recent paycheck and one of my credit cards.

I can pay the credit card off. There’ll be interest, but what that will amount to is barely a pinch in comparison. At the same time, this is the first instance I’ve put a large purchase on one of my credit cards. And since I’m still paying off a medical expense, it wasn’t really something I wanted to do. There was no option I wanted to do.

I’m not happy. I’m worried. I’m sad. I’m afraid. I’m frustrated.

The looming question in my mind, the one that stands over me like a collapsing tower, is: Is it worth it?

I have to hope it is, but debt, however necessary it may be, is never fun to owe. Putting any part of the payment on my credit card was a one-time thing. That I had to do it to begin with makes me hope completing this school is worthwhile, but fear more and more it won’t be. Excitement and fear are not two emotions that can mix within me. One kicks the other out, and in this case, fear has sent excitement packing. I feel unnatural as it is, being someone who’s just starting school while everyone else is graduating (two of my friends from high school graduated with their bachelor’s – one in chemical engineering, the other in psychology – just days ago), so more than anything, I want my time and money toward this school to prove to be worth the debt. Worth the stress, the tiredness, the temporary smacks to my credit score. But, admittedly, mostly worth the debt.

I won’t know if it’s worth it until the end. I have to hope it is. I have to believe it will be.

But I don’t know if I can!