So.
This morning was my first morning at Target. I did the whole orientation thing yesterday, which was really just watching movies and doing paperwork. Afterward I felt pretty good- but still in the back of my head I wondered if it’d be worth it. 3am is early, and my little boy is going through a rough spurt with sleeping again. As The Keeper of the Schedule, I wondered if I could be away so often and not see repercussions. I wondered if the money was worth it- especially since I’d only need to do 2.5 more hours of piano a week to make up the difference. And I’m getting new students lately. Except that it’s never a sure thing. I felt everyone around me barely keeping themselves from saying, “Don’t do it.” But I think they must have known that I had to do it for myself, to figure some things out.
So I went. I woke up at 2am, showered (rather luxuriously, actually. I had time to shave my legs and just sit and steam for a few minutes) threw some laundry in, and ate breakfast alone in the kitchen (John made me muffins last night) and then headed out. When I got there I approached the crowd of about 10 people at the door and said, “Hello. I was worried I’d have to stand out here all alone. I’m new.” And then I apparently grew 4 heads and shot a rocket out of my butt, because no one said a word. They just stared. And smoked. And mumbled things to each other, the only intelligible word being the “F” word. And no, I don’t mean formula.
We got into the building and a guy handed me a metal thing and said, “You’ll need this. Follow them.” I was all, “Whoa…what is this? It’s a KNIFE!” Honestly, I’ve never had a job where they gave me a knife before. Let me think about that…yeah. Nope. Never a knife. So I followed the herd and was given an assignment…and just went about it. Get the boxes into the aisles. Get the stuff onto the shelf. It was actually a pretty intense workout, and aside from the fact that I was FREAKING PARANOID that I was going to cut myself in my pocket with my knife (conversation: “This thing makes me nervous.” “What thing?” “This knife thing. It just slides to open. There’s not safety. That’s it. Things slide in my pocket all the time.” “It won’t slide open in your pocket.” “Shouldn’t they give us a special little belt for this? I mean, I could cut my leg AND my new pants.” “It won’t slide open in your pocket.” silence. “You’re sure you’ve NEVER heard of anyone cutting their leg open?”) and that I could never remember where I set my water bottle…it was just eh. For about an hour. Then it got bad.
I have to tell you that I almost named this post “My Night with the Fringe People.” Some of the people there were normal and nice, and some were not. A lot of them were really petty, like small children squabbling over who had to do what. I helped one guy for FIVE MINUTES and he was all glowing grateful. That’s sad. In my house we help each other a lot. It’s part of what people do for other people. It’s actually…you know…part of what life is about. Not there. You claim your “job” and then you do it as fast and as crappily as you can, and then you pawn off anything you don’t want to do on people who know less, who are new, or who get caught standing around looking for something to do. One guy stood in an aisle for 3 minutes bellowing, “WHO’S AISLE IS THIS???” Finally I said, “HOLY CRAP, I’LL DO IT WHEN I’M DONE WITH THIS ONE IF YOU DON’T WANT TO DO IT THAT BAD.” The manager came by and said, “Hey, do you have any questions?” And I said, “Yeah, what is all this “Who’s aisle is this?” stuff? Aren’t we just supposed to keep working throgh them?” (I actually wanted to know.) He laughed and walked away.
Other main topics of conversation: Child support and the lack of it, the fact that they were working this job just to “f* with” child support (apparently you max out on hours at Target around 20…which means they can tell their babymammas that they are doing everything they can while still providing diddly squat), more than I’d like to know about what young older men “team members” think that younger men “team members” do in the lotion aisle at 4am, the places they like to party, the places they like to stick their kids so that they can party…there were some hardcore crazy people there. Then there were the super serious workers who looked down on the partiers. They didn’t say a word to me. And then there were the fringe people. Some, like me, who looked uncomfortable at the surprising juxtaposition of the Target Culture in the orientation video and the allowances made to the “Flow Team.” Who are apparently allowed to tease each other about homosexuality, masturbation, infidelity, as well as loss of teeth, eyes and other vital body parts.
One guy was really nice, and asked me about Camper and about why I’m working and about everything. He asked me my last jobs and about my education and my experience, and then asked, “Why are you working here?” I said, “Because…”
As I put stuff on shelves, things that I would have loved for Camper, to decorate our home, books and music and food…I just kept thinking, “You know what? I might be stuck, and we might be poor. But I don’t NEED this.” As in literally, that piece of something that I was putting on the shelf- it all seemed so…seasonal. Cheap. Unimportant. More than just stuff… I want to build up a savings account, I want to be able to buy nice things for Christmas, I’d like an iphone. I want a house and a second car. I want to be more self-sufficient, and I want to get out of debt. But the money for the experience- what would it cost me to work this job? So much, it seems.
First: Sleep. And not just mine. John got no sleep last night. Camper got no sleep last night. I doubt many people got much sleep last night. So this isn’t just my sacrifice to make.
Second: Health. Autoimmune disorder and lack of sleep. That’s all I have to say.
Third: Time. I bet you a million dollars that my son will never, never remember if we buy him one thing or no things or eighteen things for Christmas this year. (A perk of kids being born so young. They don’t really remember that kind of stuff.) The number of presents he opens at Christmas will in no way become a part of his character. And that part of me that made it a part of mine is gone now. If I have to choose between being there Christmas morning surrounded by things, or being here every morning when my kid wants to eat and cuddle and tell me his dreams…then I know where I want to be. Here. I have no. freaking. idea. how I got that messed up.
Fourth: Sanity. They already started to play the game, “You have to stay five or ten more minutes.” “Well, my husband has to go to work, I have to leave now.” “Well, that team could use some help over there.” (The same team that was working freaking slow all night and being super childish.) “I was told I could leave by 8. I did the tasks I was assigned. I’m going home now.” And then I worried about MY behavior, although THEY were the ones not being up front and honest with expectations. I hate that crap.
Fifth: Self-respect. It was so hard to be with those people. And before that sounds AWFUL, let me explain. Honestly, I can’t say I’ve made better choices than them or have a better plan. I’m not smarter than anyone or better in any way. We were all different and if I got to know them better I’m sure they’d all have their own strengths and talents. But the horrible things everyone around me seemed to be saying….it was bad. I respect myself, and I love my family. And I act like it. I don’t say dirty things about my spouse to my coworkers. I don’t say dirty things to my coworkers period. (Ok Anisa, maybe you. That one time.) I don’t demean my child or his importance in my life, or talk about him like he’s a bill to pay. When I do work, whatever it is, I want to do it well. There is no kind of work that is beneath me, and if the environment had been different there this morning, I could totally see myself going back. Exercise combined with money is a good thing. But I felt like crap the whole time I was there, half wondering if anyone had ever used their slidey knife in self-defense. It made me disappointed in people. And if you don’t need to have something in your life that does that, don’t.
Sixth: Flexibility. The job is not flexible. They said it was. It’s not. The end.
Seventh: Time. Can we go back to time for just a second? I don’t know how long we’re going to be struggling. I don’t know that there won’t be a time when John and I will both have to work job on top of job to make ends meet, barely. But right now I have time. We have a place to live where we have minimized our costs. We have family around that love us. We have a son who changes more in one day than most adults do in a month. I don’t want to miss it. I don’t want to add unnecessary things to my life that crowd out the good.
So yes. I learned a lot last night. I learned that I prefer budgeting over trying to find a way to make just a few more bucks. I learned that HOLY CRAP MY MOM WAS A GENIUS when she suggested I teach piano, and I’m going to put more effort into it. Because I just realized that I love doing it. I might even start taking lessons again myself to work on my confidence. I learned that when I feel bad about myself because of what we don’t have, I am WAY off base. We might not have money or the independence we want RIGTH NOW, but we’re working on it. The best we can. And I learned that I’m going to give myself like, 50 Christmas presents this year. Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday morning between now and then with my kid and my husband.
The end.
He pushed puzzle pieces around on his truck while I cleaned. It was super cute.
