A dreaded word, bringing awful anticipation for the masses. An exchange, a barter - service for money. Necessary, but I question the validity of our society's philosophy. How can we expect people to throw themselves away in dead-end jobs, struggling to make ends meet? How does that improve their lives, make them worth anything? Isn't the whole point of life to do something worthwhile and to enjoy yourself?
Questions aside, work has a strange effect on me. I'm usually sleep-deprived and exhausted when I take up position behind the sickly, jarring yellow of the cash registers, and for the first hour, I'm cordial and smiling, settling into the verbal routine. It's static and unchanging for the most part: "Hi there, how are you? Good, thanks. It comes to (total). Debit? Go ahead, stripe out. Here's your change, have a great day." It becomes so automatic that my brain literally shuts down. There is no cranial activity there. I am in a daze, hardly glancing at people as they drop their groceries on the belt and pick through their change with germ-infested fingers. My eyes stare blankly at the scanner. Of course I'm not comatose, but for the most part I am unaware of my surroundings, my short-term memory shot to bits. This takes place gradually: for the first hour I am perfectly aware. The second hour, I slip a little and refrain from offering non-mandatory statements. The third hour goes by in a daze, as does the fourth. The last hour perks me up, and I am happier as I time my last few minutes behind the desk. The monotony and repeated questions and answers deplete my resources and I end up too tired to deal with it proactively.
Weird, right?
