I hate sending mail, emails, or texts to people. The reason for this is simple — I am able to reread these messages. Often, when I read over my messages, I notice that, not only do I write poorly, but I cannot keep to a serious conversation. My mind is all over the place and half of the things I say do not make any sense at all. I cannot even imagine the impressions my messages give to people. They probably think I am a child that is fascinated by everything in the world and cannot understand how to properly communicate (If anyone else feels this way, I would be interested to know that I am not the only one, so do leave a comment and let me know). Anyways, I thought I would share with everyone some mail I just sent out to a friend that I have not seen in a while. Here it is.
Let me start by saying, I’m sorry I have taken so long to reply to you. Like I said in my email, I have been rather busy. Getting A’s in five classes at community college (which I need to get into a big kid college), although probably even easier than getting A’s in high school, is certainly time consuming. And having a part time job and helping my dad with his accounting has kept me preoccupied. You know that saying that’s used to describe someone running around all the time like they can’t keep up with everything going on around them: “you look like a chicken with its head cut off.” Well, I think I might be a chicken; and although my head does seem to be attached, that does not mean it is completely functional. I think I might have brain issues. Like, my brain does not function as a normal human being’s would. I do not yet know if there is something wrong with the wiring, or if my family has just warped my brain into not understanding reality. But my brain is most definitely dysfunctional. On the bright side, even though my busy schedule has highlighted that I have brain issues, I do enjoy being constantly busy; it is much better than having time to think (about my brain issues).
Brain issues aside, I thought you would be interested to hear how work has been going. Working at Old Navy has been at times fun, or other times boring. It is never difficult or painful, which is about all I could ask for. Basically, I fold clothes more than anything. Actually, it isn’t too far from working at Babies’ R’ Us (where I know you wish I had gotten a job). Old navy’s target audience is 30 year old moms and their young children. About 90 percent of customers are moms with their little toddlers and children, or at least buying for their children. And my manager keeps sticking me in the babies and kids section. Customers keep asking me questions pertaining to toddlers, like, “what item do you think my five year old daughter would like and fit into?” I am ill equipped to handle these questions, though I try my best to not look like a fool (which is hard considering my face is rather similar to my brother’s). And I cannot explain to you how many sparkles are on young girl’s clothes. I am afraid I’m going to turn into a fairy princess (I’m not exactly sure how the process works, but I am sure it starts with a lot of sparkles).
Oh, and working there involves a LOT of socializing — even during my breaks, as I must talk to my coworkers. I thought the breaks would be my time to do as I please, but in order to not seem strange (so that I can keep the job beyond the holiday season), I must act like a normal, socialable human being (btw, Microsoft Word says “socialable” is not a word, how lame). Actually, I have apparently been doing well at acting like a normal person. My manager seems to really like me. She saw me undress three mannequins in one day and was quite impressed with my willingness to help customers. To be honest, it mostly just felt awkward. For one of the mannequins whose pants I had just taken off, I needed to have a coworker help me put the clothes back on. Unfortunately, I had to wait for my coworker to help another customer, and I was stuck holding onto a pantless, little boy’s mannequin for much longer than I had intended. Then my coworker and I put on the wrong sized pants and were unable to button and zip them up. We ended up just covering it up with the shirt. Well, I am sure there are more work stories to tell, but for now, this is it. I’ll tell you about school next week. Until then, lates, yo.