My Day

My day began like most of my days, waking up 90 minutes before I leave for work, immediately saying to myself how much I don't want to go. I promptly amend that statement by saying to myself, "I don't want to be at work today." I don't mind going to work, it's the being there that's hard. However, I just needed to get through the next nine hours and I am without a job for the following three days. Yes, for the entire month of January I decided I was going to take control of my schedule by requesting Tuesdays off.

After watching another hysterical episode of Psych, it was time to get ready. I had on a red shirt that I don't normally like to wear because it's a very large medium, so it looks big on me. Since I like to layer my shirts, I was going to put on another shirt over the red one. I looked in my hamper of clean clothes and noticed a nice blue one. Because I recently began a rather unhealthy obsession with the Superman movies, I immediately snatched the blue shirt out of the hamper and pulled it over the red. I felt like Superman, faster than a speeding bullet and able to leap tall buildings in a single bound. It did not prepare me for what I was about to do at work.

A couple of years ago, I was asked by the general manager to paint some walls in the backroom. I first had to prime and then paint one of the walls this horrifying blue and a couple of others red. I did a terrible job, in part because I'm not an experienced painter and the drywall sucked up the paint like a dry sponge. Fast-forward, a couple years later I'm sitting in the office when the current General Manager asks what I wanted to do today. I give her my usual, "anything is fine", secretly hoping she doesn't banish me to the registers. She responds by asking me if I wanted to Spackle and paint a few walls in the backroom.

Panic started to set in because I remembered the debacle that occurred last time I attempted such a feat. Regardless, I agreed without hesitation because it would get me off the sales floor for the day and I certainly didn't want to deal with "Saturday customers". She found me the small container of Spackle, the Spackle knife and I began applying it to the wall. It was a nightmare.

There were thousands of little holes in the wall from all the tacks we used to post announcements. When I began, the wall was blue, by the time I finished spackling it had turned to a pale pink. I put on so much Spackle I thought my hand was going to fall off. The last time I spackled anything was when we first moved into the house 16 years ago. I felt like a poser, reading the instructions and not having a clue what they meant, but pretending to work the knife like a pro. Thankfully, I watched more than my fair share of Bob Ross creating snow on the happy little trees that lived in the forest.

Once I faked my way through spackling, it was time to sand it all down. I only realized I needed to sand it because my friend and professional painter, Marsha came by and said, "You're gonna need to sand it down." To which I responded, "That's next," with a confident authority. I'm certain I would have been able to find that next step as my Trading Spaces training was beginning to shine through. I found some sand paper and began sanding all the rough edges of the Spackle. Darin, another employee said we had a sanders block, or whatever he called it. He found it and gave it to me which made the job go my a lot faster.

The dust went everywhere. I didn't put anything down on the floor because I was going to sweep it up anyway and what's a little fine dust. The dust got over everything; even in places I didn't think it would. I got some canned air and blew dust off the time clock and mirror, then swept most of it up. The rest would have to be picked up by the mop that I would use at the end.

The dreaded painting was next. I hate painting because it's such a production, having to first clean the tray and roller that was sitting out with dried white paint covering the things. Next, I made a makeshift drop cloth out of a large trash bag and then painting around the edges and finally rolling out the paint. To my credit, this time it went a lot better and my end result was much better than I expected. Although I was proud of my results, the nagging feeling that my GM expected better of me was something I couldn't shake. To her credit, she didn't indicate to me that she felt that way.

I followed these steps for the other two walls I needed to paint and touch-up. I got tired of washing rollers, brushes and trays. I expressed this to Marsha and she said that I should have lined the paint tray with a trash bag, then poured in the new color, that way I would only need to clean the tray once. OMG!!! That was the most brilliant freaking idea I had ever heard! The next time I paint anything, I'm doing that. Instead, I'm going to start by lining the tray with a trash bag, so I wouldn't have to clean the tray at all.

It was a very long day of paint fumes and Spackle dust and I was ready to go home. I took my last 15-minute break 15 minutes before I had to leave. Paul, a manager that constantly joked that I missed some spots and I walked over to Starbucks to get a Supervisor some coffee. I bought a Raspberry Green Tea Blended Crème, which was pretty good even though I don't normally like the flavor of raspberries. While waiting for my beverage, I heard them announce a Hazelnut Green Tea Blended Crème and I got excited. I'm totally going to get that next time.

By the time we got back, it was time for me to clock out. Thank goodness, I don't think I could have handled another minute there without going crazy. Even though it was a rough day, it was a million times better than having to deal with customers. Come to think of it, anything is better than that.