mauerbluemchen - Printable Version
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+--- Thread: mauerbluemchen (/t-mauerbluemchen)
mauerbluemchen - mauerbluemchen - 12-12-2008 09:23 PM
So I've finally decided to make a diary, something which I put off doing because I wasn't sure which category it'd come under: emet, SA, depression, OCD, general anxiety.... I suppose it can be all of these. Hopefully it'll reduce my tendency to write long and irrelevant posts in other threads. :roll:
Okay. Today I went for a job interview at a restaurant. My mum works in a bank and knows the manager and asked if they were hiring. They were and so I forced myself to ring up and pretty much got the job over the phone; went in today to meet everyone and have the job explained properly. Now I have to go back in for training on Monday. Sounds good, right? Well, John, the manager, made it very clear that most of my work will be taking phone orders. Sh*t. I cannot use the phone. Also, my mum picked me up afterwards and he spent about five minutes complaining to her about another girl that went in for a trial run - she was a bit younger than me - and just "stood there with her shoulders hunched doing nothing most of the time, and then went out of the room every time she answered the phone". Again, sh*t. I cannot use the phone ESPECIALLY when there are other people in the room! I'm still going in on Monday, and I haven't completely given up - hey, I might surprise myself and just be able to force myself to be (slightly) outgoing, but I won't be surprised if I don't keep the job.
Oh - forgot to mention that the other staff already made fun of me. Well, I know they didn't mean it, but I was really nervous and, as usual, being too formal for the situation and so I just sat there all rigid and probably looked retarded or something(!) One guy asked me if I'd finished my HSC (High School Certificate) and then the girl interrupted and said it's now called VCE (Victorian Certificate of Education) and THEN the manager interrupted and said it was Matric when he left school and they were joking amongst themselves about his age while I just sat there looking awkward. Then the conversation got back to me and I said I'd done my HSC. The guy said, "No, you haven't." I thought he was making fun of me because he'd also said something about me looking younger than most Year 12 students, and I said, "Well, I have." THEN he said, "No, you haven't, you've done VCE, not HSC." I realised what he meant and then just sat there trying to ignore the heart palpitations, then - thank God - I got shown around the kitchen. How embarrassing.
Anyway...bla bla, to be continued, I suppose!
Re: mauerbluemchen - mauerbluemchen - 12-12-2008 09:31 PM
Another thought - I wonder how much of my SA is just self-fulfilling prophecy. Maybe I should stop complaining that I have SA and allow myself to just go out and do things and see what happens - thankfully I'm not as bad as some sufferers out there (yet; I always add the yet). But then if I don't allow myself to be labelled, I might not end up getting the help I need....
Re: mauerbluemchen - mauerbluemchen - 12-16-2008 10:34 PM
Haha. I'm going to ring up and quit my job tomorrow. That went well. Maybe I'll elaborate when I'm not feeling as useless.
Re: mauerbluemchen - mauerbluemchen - 12-17-2008 04:57 PM
Now I want to delete this thread but don't know how. I don't want to look at anything I've posted again or look at people's responses in other threads I've posted in. This always happens when I join forums; I know my posts are irrelevant and annoying and end up deleting my account. :cry:
Re: mauerbluemchen - Harold-L - 12-17-2008 09:52 PM
Quote:Now I want to delete this thread but don't know how. I don't want to look at anything I've posted again or look at people's responses in other threads I've posted in. This always happens when I join forums; I know my posts are irrelevant and annoying and end up deleting my account.If you really want to delete your posts there's a tiny blue X on the bottom right corner.
I really don't think you should though, I do feel that way alot too whenever I join forums. I post a few posts, feel ignored and then delete posts/never go back to the forum again :laugh:
Try and stick around though, your posts are certainly not irrelevant/annoying.
Did you end up quitting your job?
I can't blame you for it, the "joke" thingy you wrote about in your first post sounds like a nightmare :laugh: :laugh:
I would probably not have gone back either sconfused
Re: mauerbluemchen - Shinobi - 12-17-2008 11:42 PM
Yeah, don't leave. I like your posts, you're cool. 8)
but I do the same thing on forums :laugh: This is one of the few that I've been able to stomach.
Re: mauerbluemchen - soundlessenigma - 12-18-2008 05:20 PM
Don't dooooooo it. You can't be any more annoying than me!
Re: mauerbluemchen - mauerbluemchen - 12-20-2008 08:38 AM
Okay, I should write a bit about what happened during the two three-hour shifts that I ended up working before I quit. When I say I quit, I mean that I begged my mum to ring up the manager for me because there was no way I was ever having anything to do with them ever again.
Iâve decided to do this as a list for the sake of coherence and in an attempt to keep this as short as possible. Some things will seem perfectly normal to everyone else and itâll sound like Iâm overreacting, but hey, obviously Iâm not cut out for...any type of work.
What went wrong:
- Having to operate four phone lines at once. One is quite bad enough, thank you very much, and just as I thought I was getting the hang of taking the orders and entering them into the computer and perfecting my âphone voiceâ, three customers rang up at once and the girl âtrainingâ me, Bonnie, tried to get me to ask the first customer to hold, but he was already ordering and I was having trouble finding the items on the screen...turns out you donât just press âholdâ anyway, you do some kind of magic key combination that I was just expected to magically know. She ended up doing it for me (whilst looking at me like I was an idiot) and I was thrown off track with embarrassment and anxiety and ended up just mumbling, confused, into the phone, which Bonnie of course told me off about.
- Speaking of Bonnie, sheâs only a few months older than me. As I think Iâve mentioned in the SA threads, I find it the most difficult to talk to other girls my age because I feel inherently inferior to them and worry that they judge me. At first I thought I was coping really well, but when I started attempting things on my own (like answering the phone) and she showed me what I was doing wrong, I felt so stupid and anxious, which made me blush, sweat and nearly burst into tears, all of which was visible to her, which made me more anxious, which made me less able to concentrate, which made me screw up more, which... I know it was her job to train me and that no-oneâs expected to be perfect at anything on their first attempt, but I still didnât feel good enough.
- I WAS sort of expected to be perfect on my first night. The customers certainly got annoyed, even after I politely asked them to bear with me as I was new. Thereâs only so many times you can be asked to repeat what type of pasta youâd like. And placing a receipt on the wrong spike can apparently result in disaster.
- I was neither introduced to the other staff nor shown around the premises properly. I think I said in a previous post that they showed me around the kitchen...well, thatâs true if you count walking through it to get to the phone area as âbeing shown aroundâ....
Chris (pizza guy): Tell Chook this oneâs ready for delivery.
Me [walking into kitchen and frantically searching for the person whose nickname is most likely to be Chook, quiet, trembling]: Umm...
Bonnie: Can you just go and rinse off these slicers?
Me: Okay, could you just show me where the sink is?
[Incredulous stare from Bonnie.]
- The owner, Leslie, didnât know I was working there, even though her husband John was the one that gave me the job. She rang the restaurant because her phone was missing (she did get it back; it was âon the tableâ somewhere, wherever that is exactly...)
Her: Is this Bonnie?
Me: No, itâs Sarah. Would you like to speak to B-
Me: Yes, Iâm new.
Her [irate]: Why are you in the restaurant?
Me: Iâm new here; this is my second night and Iâm just working on the phones.
Her: Are you a new waitress?
Me: No, Iâm just working on the phones.
Her: Why are you in the restaurant?
Me [bewildered]: Iâm just in for training for a few nights and â
Her: WHY ARE YOU IN THE RESTAURANT?
...and so it went on; she must have asked me that at least half a dozen times. Chris and Bonnie were standing right beside me the whole time and when Leslie eventually got off the phone (sounding very, very angry and phoneless), I couldnât even tell them what sheâd said because I was so close to tears. She rang back and one of the waitresses, Sandra, who is in her forties, was in tears afterwards, saying what a cow Leslie is and that she canât keep working there.
- One step forward, two steps back. Every time I thought I was starting to get something right, it was pointed out to me that I needed to do something else or was doing something wrong, which destroyed my concentration completely. First I couldnât use the point of sale. When I learned my way around that a little bit, I had to answer the phone. When I knew the basic procedure for taking phone orders, I had to speak up into the phone and was put off and went back to asking Bonnie to take the orders. This is the bit that sounds the most stupid and sensitive, I realise. I know I have a problem with taking criticism personally. But I donât just get offended, I feel like the most idiotic creature in the universe; I wanted to grab the pizza slicer and slit my wrists or put myself on a Tropical with extra cheese in the oven or jump into the deep fryer (wherever it was) just to get out of there. The one thought running through my head on the second night was, âthere is no way I am ever showing my face in here againâ. I spent the whole night nauseous and choking back tears, wondering whether I was going to vomit, faint or break into an all-out crying fit. I should also add that I was so worried about everything else that my emet was actually pushed aside â I felt like I was about to vomit but couldnât really care less.
- While Bonnie was training me, they hadnât really done anything about training me properly. Considering Iâd never used a point of sale before, some more intensive tuition wouldâve been useful, rather than: âThese are the pizzas, these are the pastas â sauce goes before noodles â drinks are in red for the special and you choose Coke but if itâs not a special you go into the yellow part of the drinks menu but if itâs lunch you go into the starters menu and extras are 70 cents for small pizzas and a dollar for large and one twenty for family but if itâs halves you only charge for like big price differences and I donât know how much seafood extras are so I just charge the customers whatever depending on the type of pizza...â Would you find that helpful??!!
- I just didnât fit in. I live on the outskirts of Melbourne suburbia and our town is pretty awful; donât know why my parents wanted to live there when we couldâve afforded a nicer location, but anyway...but I spent the last four years of my secondary education at a high-achieving inner-suburban school full of the children of university professors and bigshot lawyers, and I speak like them. I like to think Iâve always spoken well, but anyway.... The people in my town are all bogans (chavs) and speak like Kath and Kim (nearly). As soon as I opened my mouth, the other pizza guy, Johnny, asked me if I was English. I said no, my mother is, but Iâve lived in Australia all my life. âYouâve got a reeeealllll posh accent,â he said. Johnny, who is probably in his mid-fifties, kept making suggestive jokes to Bonnie, pinching her bum, making jokes about her boyfriend and swearing profusely. I didnât object to the swearing â I swear plenty in certain situations â but wasnât sure what to make of everything else, and so they probably all thought I was being a princess and not talking because I thought I was too good for them. I made a joke about this to my mum: this job could never work out for me, because whereas I wish people a ânice nightâ, to succeed in the hospitality industry in this town you have to wish them a ânoice noightâ and really drag out those diphthongs. She laughed.
- Itâs terribly hard to tell whether or not people are joking when youâre concentrating on not dying of panic. Chris asked me if I knew how to cut a pizza and I said no, thinking there was some kind of art to it, and he said, âOkay, well, you can do the next oneâ. Still eager to appear useful and like I actually wanted the job, and considering all the other things Iâd been asked to do, I said okay. Then he laughed at me and said he was just joking; I could cut the pizzas later when Iâd mastered the phones. Another attack of the water works. Similar things happened several times over both nights. I know the jokes were all friendly and I wasnât angry at them, just my inability to react appropriately.
- I think one of the guys picked up on how anxious I really was and so took Bonnie aside to tell her about the customer that complained about me (I wrote down $5.00 for delivery instead of adding the $5 to the total price). That seemed like a nice thing to do, considering how I reacted to face-to-face criticism, but it was extremely humiliating watching him whisper about me while I was still in the room.
Sorry to have made this so long, believe me, I could have kept going on and on, and I was only there for two nights!
My dad said he had extreme SA when he was my age, but gradually worked his way out of it by forcing himself into social situations...this was obviously too big a leap for me for the time being.
Re: mauerbluemchen - mauerbluemchen - 01-05-2009 09:33 PM
Very depressed this week. I have my birthday party coming up, which I'm excited about and which is keeping me occupied, but as soon as I stop doing all my preparations for that I feel crap. Don't know why. I'm bored and have become addicted to the Internet; I check my emails and if I haven't received anything from Facebook, I log on and just stalkerishly read everyone else's status updates and look at their photos, then check MySpace and oFear and if no-one's posted anything new, I wind up reading pointless articles on WikiHow like "How to Build Self Confidence" and "How to Not Be Shy".
Today I cried for an hour after noticing that my teeth seem to be wonkier than before (I think my wisdom teeth are pushing them out of place; my mum says no-one can even notice it apart from me, but it depresses me like you wouldn't believe). Then when we went out driving, we went through our nice new estate full of young families and I made the kind of observations I make when I feel like this:
- "Look at her, she's skinny and she's got two kids. I'm skinny and I bet I'll never even get married."
- "Look how fat she is, and she's got a husband. I'm skinny and no-one's ever gonna marry me."
- "What am I worried about; look at her teeth. But what's wrong with me that my teeth look so bad and yet she looks so bloody happy."
Then I feel like I'm being shallow, but I think this goes beyond ordinary shallowness, when you feel like you can't move because you're so ugly...or rather, you're not really any uglier than most other people, but there's just something inherently inferior and wrong about you...
Re: mauerbluemchen - mauerbluemchen - 01-16-2009 10:33 AM
I just "missed" my bus; it's my friend's birthday and that means cameras. With flashes. It also means a one-and-a-half-hour trip on public transport and, with it being summer holidays, lots of people that I used to go to school with on the train. I just couldn't do it. Besides, rather than getting ready normally, after I'd put my makeup on I burst into tears and was howling so much my face went red and the mascara smudged all over my face, and there was no time to fix it. And my nose, the source of all my problems (I still hate my teeth but I've realised my nose is the precise reason why my face looks so...blaah), went bright red, which made it stand out even more.
I've read the Wikipedia article on BDD dozens of times but went through it again and I'm fairly certain what my problem is.
It says: "The most common personality disorders found in individuals with BDD are avoidant personality disorder and dependent personality disorder which conforms to the introverted, shy and neurotic traits usually found in individuals with the disorder." I think I have all of those traits. But the problem is being dependent. I'm not sure if I can express this clearly, but I'll try.
Last night I spent hours crying and looking up rhinoplasty: the cost, what's exactly involved, where I can get it done in Melbourne, etc. My nose is not "dainty" enough. It looks like God got impatient when he was moulding it out of clay or whatever he uses and just whacked it on when it still unfinished. Men like women with dainty features. My nose is kind of okay as long as I don't smile, and I can draw attention away from it with strong eye makeup. But even flirting involves smiling (obviously), and then if a woman moves in with a man, she's probably not going to have her face done 24/7. So I can't ever be in a relationship with a guy. (The thing about men preferring to settle down with women with average looks and above average intelligence is, by the way, crap. The rest of my face is "average", my nose looks like I ran into a brick wall and is utterly repulsive. No man wants to look at that thing, regardless of how much general knowledge I have, my good school results or how many books I've read.) I've joked to my friends that I'll kill myself if I'm not married by age 30 - I joke about it in front of them but I can't imagine what I'll do if I'm not. I have no ambition; I just want to get married, have children and create a nice, loving little home for them. Sounds corny and immature, but my own childhood consisted of me staying home alone with my dad, who had severe depression, during the day, my mum coming home in the evening, then the two of them constantly nitpicking one another, my brothers constantly fighting, not knowing what it's like to have a sibling hug or kiss you or say happy birthday without being told to, and no contact with other children until I was three. I was never neglected or abused; it was just a cold and fairly loveless home to grow up in. I told my mum how I felt recently and she said that as her parents were constantly fighting when she was a child, and my dad was physically and emotionally abused by his father, it was hard for them to openly express love like other families, which I understand. Anyway, as I said, I don't think anyone will ever want to marry me. (After all, even if I had a nicer nose, I'm still social phobic, emetophobic and prone to depression.) I suppose it all comes down to my fear of dying alone - I can't imagine being an old lady and dying without being surrounded by my children. That's not the only reason I want kids - that would be selfish - of course I love children, love watching them playing and learning and would love to see my own son or daughter grow into a well-rounded adult (God willing). I've been told I'm good with kids and will make a good mother, and it's the one compliment I've ever been given that I agree with. I know some guys out there probably do place (slightly) more importance in personality than in looks, and that I should go out and have a life and try to meet people, but as I've shown this morning, I can't even get out the door for fear of people being repelled by my nose. I should probably try and compensate for my nose by having nice hair and clothes, but haven't been to the hairdresser's for months as it involves bright lights, bitchy, overconfident young women and close face-to-face contact. Shop assistants look you up and down and make you feel inferior with their nice free clothes and too much makeup. So I stay at home most of the time and have no hobbies, and then complain that no guys like me. Deep down I know that they can't like me if they don't meet me in the first place, but it only makes the feelings of hopelessness and repulsiveness worse. So I don't go out, so I feel unloved, so I don't go out....
That wasn't clearly expressed at all. Long story short:
- ugly nose
- can't get married because of ugly nose!
- consider sole purpose in life to be married to nice man; need nice husband and family to feel worthwhile and can't fathom being alone
- know that realistically, I could go out and try to meet people, but no confidence in the first place
- vicious circle!
I also found out that rhinoplasty costs about $15,000. So as of last night, I'm saving that money. I was going to save for a deposit on a house, but thought I won't buy a house 'til I'm married. But I can't get married until after the nose job. So I'm going to be completely broke if I do get married. Unless I meet someone that is blind and doesn't care about my nose, in which case I can completely forget about the surgery. You see, the whole thing boils down to finding my "soulmate" and has nothing to do with vanity or wanting to look like someone out of a glossy magazine. Dependent. I feel ridiculous.
And speaking of how I'm feeling right now - guilty! My friend rang me while I was in the middle of a crying fit, and when I answered the phone she said I sounded sick. Then she insisted on talking for about ten minutes and my nose gradually began to clear up, so I had to then fake blocked sinuses and say I must be coming down with something. It can't have been very convincing. She's the "littlie" of our group and I can't believe I chose to miss her eighteenth.
Re: mauerbluemchen - mauerbluemchen - 01-19-2009 10:20 PM
WHY can't I learn to stop worrying about what other people think?
University offers just came out and I got into my course - Bachelor of Health Sciences/Master of Speech Pathology. Everyone else is happy that they all got into their courses, but I'm nearly f***ing suicidal. What have I done? There's one kid at school that has been telling me for two years that speech is such a waste for me. I should take that as a compliment, but he just loves rubbing it in, telling me how unhappy I'm going to be, how low-status the job is and how low the pay is. He's Vietnamese and keeps telling me how ashamed his family would be if he were to do something like speech himself. I really wanted to do this job, really thought it was my "calling"! Now all I can think about is how miserable I'm going to be, living in an awful suburb married to some idiot with an arts degree (my mum jokes that if I'm worried about money I should marry a doctor, but the future med students I know are all too snobby to marry anyone with as crap a job as me), sending my kids to an awful school and thus creating more and more generations of lower-class scum. Thing is, I myself never used to care too much about money and status. This is what you get for going to one of the best state-run schools in Victoria. Everyone else cares about it, and they're the ones that will look down their noses at me at the ten-year reunion.
I can do graduate-entry medicine once I've done a bachelor's degree, but that's another six years of study and debt. I don't want to spend half my life studying and worrying about paying the government back. I want to start a family nice and early. I'll get my Master's degree when I'm twenty-two. Then I can either work for a bit, get married and have kids or work for a bit, go back to uni and THEN get married and have kids, by which time I'll be about forty... Then I'll feel guilty for putting career and status ahead of starting a family and worry that I won't live to see my kids grow up. It won't be good for them, either - I spend half my life now worrying about my mum's health (she was 40 when I was born).
I don't know what to do.
P.S. And to make matters worse, when I told my mum that I got into the course, she didn't congratulate me or even say, "oh, that's good". She just asked what the next step was. Hello! I just received confirmation of my entire future and got what I (thought I) have been hoping for for the past three years...! I feel like a complete failure. She kept telling me to ignore other people, to do what I thought was going to make me happy and not to worry about money. Then she wouldn't even be happy for me.
P.P.S. The kid that keeps teasing me got into Pharmacy by a fraction (my results were way better than his, by the way!) and is now posting it all over Facebook, I know to annoy me because I said something about looking forward to a life of being lower-class. Egging him on, I know, but still. Bugger.
Re: mauerbluemchen - mauerbluemchen - 01-20-2009 11:58 AM
I just volunteered through my local council to tutor refugee children. I feel better already.
I decided it was no good to sit around wallowing in self-pity and was - pause, shudder, I hate the word - inspired by the quote, "You can make more friends in two months by becoming really interested in other people, than you can in two years by trying to get other people interested in you." Of course, I actually wanted to do the work as well. I tutored African kids for a couple of months last year and it was the most fun I'd had in a long time.
Now I just hope I can fit it in somewhere between work, uni and travel!
Re: mauerbluemchen - mauerbluemchen - 02-03-2009 04:18 PM
Re: mauerbluemchen - Mr Ian - 02-05-2009 09:42 PM
I respectfully raise complaint about the infrequency and, in some instances (ref:Tue Feb 03, 2009 4:18 pm), downright inadequacy of your diary.
I have become quite a fan yet unfortunately find that such inconsistency is not conducive to my entertainment or nosey-parker needs.
Please write more.
Re: mauerbluemchen - mauerbluemchen - 02-09-2009 06:31 PM
So, erm...last week was pretty terrible! I canât even remember what exactly was wrong because the whole period seemed to turn into a big...blob of panic, tears and suicidal ideation...
I went to the doctor on Monday. This is the one I first met when I was hospitalised in January 2003, who maintains that Iâm anorexic and have OCD. I tried to tell HIM about emetophobia, thinking he would be a bit more open-minded than the psychologist, but he just laughed and continued talking about OCD. Just laughed! I got smart and started continuously referring to âmy FEAR OF VOMITINGâ and how âmy FEAR OF VOMITINGâ is going to impact on my life at uni and that âmy FEAR OF VOMITINGâ hasnât been so bad over summer since Iâm home all the time and can usually eat what I want and cook for myself, and he still ignored me. He wants to find me a psychologist on campus, and I was supposed to email him today to remind him to write a referral, but as he still insists I need someone to treat my OCD, Iâm just conveniently âforgettingâ to do it...
So I think it all snowballed from there. After heâd laughed at me and made me feel like absolute crap, I couldnât be bothered asking him about my blood pressure, which has been worrying me lately (I get blind âsplotchesâ in my eyes and feel faint when I stand up; Iâve diagnosed myself with orthostatic hypotension) and I left the clinic fighting back tears because Iâm so fed up with doctors. Then I knew people could tell I was about to cry and practically ran across the road, onto the tram and through to the very back; of course everyone on board stared at me, which made me panic even more, and THEN I saw a guy from school and HE was staring at me the whole way... When I got home I took it out on my parents and THAT made me feel even worse. My mum took me for a driving lesson, which was a complete disaster because I was so on edge that I couldnât concentrate and kept stalling the car...then doing âbunny hopsâ and shrieking...
On Tuesday I went to the aquarium with the guy Iâve been talking to on MSN for a while now; that was slightly awkward to begin with, but we soon started having fun, I suppose. I like him âas a friendâ (I feel thirteen saying that), but thatâs it. I should add that another reason I felt so terrible is because Valentineâs Day is coming up. More on this later. Anyway, this guy likes me a bit more than that, which is flattering, but also makes me feel a bit sh*t for God knows what reason. I almost feel sorry for him, like heâs deluded or is settling for me because he feels he canât do any better. MSN is stupid: I told him about emetophobia and SA, which I would never do in âreal lifeâ. Turns out he still thinks Iâm great, despite being a neurotic, self-centred little cow. I had a good time on Tuesday, but when I got home those thoughts of something being seriously wrong with him, not to mention me, really set in.
I canât remember anything from Wednesday, Thursday and Friday apart from a driving lesson, a haircut and general feelingsh*tness. The driving lesson was awful because the school year has started, and I had to drive through the centre of town at 3.30 pm. HAVE YOU ANY IDEA HOW BUSY THE ROADS ARE AT 3.30 PM ON A SCHOOL DAY?! (Sorry to yell.) So there was a lot of stopping for no reason other than panic, stalling, crawling along for fear of running over a small schoolchild, being overtaken by psycho mothers in Land Rovers, etc. The instructor is extremely patronising and I couldnât speak without bursting into tears, so I didnât say anything. âWhatâs the speed limit along here?â âUmmmm...â âThe signâs right there...â âEr....â âItâs forty, isnât it?â âYrrr...â Needless to say I felt even more useless and pathetic after all that. The haircut was just too short and square-looking, and drew attention to my nose rather than away from it... Not what I asked for AT ALL. Yuk. Itâs settled down a bit now and I donât mind it, but last week...
On Saturday I did my first shift at KFC. I almost didnât make it because I had to wear my hair pulled away from my face, revealing my hideous face in its entirety. To make matters worse, once I got there, two guys in the queue laughed at me. My mum said they mightâve been saying, âsheâs a bit of alrightâ. Bullsh*t. Sorry mum, but what utter crap. Thankfully I was only put on the burger counter and didnât have to talk to customers, and had no time to worry about what I looked like or feel sorry for myself. The temperature was 46C and the air was thick with smoke from the bushfires, so nobody wanted to cook. All the KFC girls said theyâd never seen such a busy night. I actually enjoyed it, despite the air conditioning being broken....! Last night I didnât have as much fun, though. On your first night, no-one expects you to know what youâre doing. On your second night, they expect you to have learned something. The girls in last night werenât as nice as the ones on Saturday, either. They were also really horrible to the two Sudanese boys that were on cooking the chicken, which depressed me slightly. I now live in fear of being asked to do something other than make burgers. If Iâm put on the drive-through or on the front counter, I donât know what Iâll do. I hope they put me at the back doing the chicken, too. Maybe if I do a crap job of serving customers â and Iâm sure I will â theyâll just keep me out the back. _cheesygrin::
Last night that guy told me on MSN that he REALLY likes me â not that I needed to be told â and it was awkward. I had to tell him I just wanted to be friends...then we just kept talking and he told me later how he self-harmed a few years ago over a girl. Oh crap. Still, I obviously couldnât start a relationship just to be polite to him! Iâve done that before... I need to learn that sometimes youâve gotta be cruel to be kind (...to yourself). I was slightly depressed to think that Iâll be alone again on Valentineâs Day; I know Iâm still young and everything, but still... And I still feel like thereâs something wrong with me and itâs my fault that I donât like the only guy that actually shows an interest in me...Iâm going to stop now before this dissolves in a mush of teenage angst...
So, that was my week. Better, Disgruntled? stongue