Saturday, January 04, 2003

I'm in.

My apartment, that is. I'm finally physically in after several weeks of moving in, unpacking, going to Ikea and buying storage furniture such as wardrobes and bookshelves, lugging those items up a flight of stairs with the help of my mom and stepdad. The first bookcase I took up the stairs myself, and came close to being a candidate for the Darwin awards. "Shit Doesn't Roll Uphill. -- Stupid girl pinned under bookshelves twice her weight after trying to carry them up a flight of stairs," would be the caption. My legs look like someone took a bullwhip to them, black and blue from resting heavy boxes full of stacked Ikea furniture parts on them when I couldn't go any further. That, or dropping them on myself and pushing with all my might to get it up one more step. Why, when I always think that I'll avoid arduous physical labor, does it always end up being the worst? I am experienced at moving, but with every apartment I always need something and the burly guys I paid to take things up the stairs are long gone. In this case, it was bookshelves. And, they kicked my ass. Yeah, that's right. I got served a can of whoop-ass from some Ikea bookshelves.

The fatigue that my body is experiencing from continued overexertion is taking a toll on my attitude at work. That, and the stress of knowing that I was moving in today. Yet another change. It's exacerbating an adjustment problem that I've had with the customers. As I've said before, they aren't the brightest bulbs on the planet. They are a complete change from the customers that I encountered in Calabassas. The problem is, that when I was seventeen, I bolted out of my hometown to get away from people like this. Now, I'm encountering them on a daily basis. I thought that I could handle it, just shut my eyes and ears to them, but I can't deny that it is taking a toll on me. The constant deadpan, humorless, dense, uneducated, and okay, I'll go ahead and say it, fat and ugly clientele. And yes, I know that isn't nice to say. It feels even worse to think such things. To put it into perspective of why these mean thoughts surface, a coworker of mine was walking by an obese couple who were looking at our "Lord of the Rings" display that we had up for the holidays. She overheard the man say to the woman, "Look, they have all four books here," to which she responded by chastising him, "What do you mean? They can't have all four books out, since there are only TWO movies out." I'm glad I didn't hear that, as I don't know if I could have kept quiet. I may have suggested that they walk by our Harry Potter display where we had a special preview of the third and fourth books BEFORE the movies. Like I said, the people here don't read, except for romance novels and books about their ailments, most likely brought on by being overweight and smokers.

And what's worse, is they expect you to be as dumb as they are. In Los Angeles, the customers didn't assume that you were a nimrod, since a lot of people who work retail are pursuing other things. And, because the people there were not nimrods for the most part. I got asked about five times a day if I was a student, or a writer, since I worked in a bookstore. People came to me for suggestions for books and I was happy to share them. I was interested in the people who came into the store, and they were interested in being helped or would take suggestions. They weren't all perfect either, but again, Los Angeles was a land of dreamers, and the people reflected that.

So, I'm keeping the idea in the back of my head that another job may be the answer. I'm not planning anything right now, but if the daily exposure to the mullet people gets to where I can't stand it, I'm ok with finding something else. Perhaps a different store, perhaps a different job. I like my coworkers, but I can't be subjected to abject stupidity on a daily basis. It makes me an angry person, and I'm not an angry person. Depressed, yes. Pissed off, no.

At least not yet.

The snow God's have visited Baltimore again. The sky has sifted a steady helping of snow since noon today, and about six inches have accumulated. It's beautiful, and peaceful. A snow covered tree stands outside my window. Earlier, the neighbors were shoveling heaps of snow off their stoops and the sidewalks in front of their houses as their kids played alongside. This is the Baltimore I imagined, with snow covered Victorian rowhouses and me in my warm, big apartment with hardwood floors, high ceilings, and a marble fireplace mantle. I made this happen, because I believed in it. And though there are some things that are not perfect, this part is.

No comments: