"God Loves A Working Man" 2003-11-18 - 1:36 a.m.

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Sorry for not updating yesterday, I was tired

eventually there will come a time when I will be able to do things after I've gotten off work

but for now I just sit around and think of doing things but decide I'm too tired

because I am a lazy, lazy man

it's not like it's hard

quite the contrary

working register is about the easiest thing I've ever seen

in fact, after awhile I start to slow down because I'm feeling asleep from the ease

ok, well, it's not quite that easy

my first day was mostly training

meaning I got to stand next to someone while they worked the register so I could see how it's done

the first woman I had to work with just threw me on the register and had me start working with basically no explanation

luckily I was able to use my common sense to get by, and she would step in if I didn't know what to do

the second lady did exactly the opposite, doing all the work while I simply stood back and watched her

after a while I started bagging the stuff for them

there was another old lady in between; and then the last girl I was with(who was 16) let me do all the work

it was easy

and it goes by fast

I daresay it was almost fun

the only problem I had was when I was supposed to clock in that morning; I put my badge in backwards

[the timeclock is electronic, and your nametag basically acts as your ID; and you slide it in to clock in and out]

and so I after I went to lunch I had to have an assistant manager help make sure I got credit for all the hours I worked and straighten it out

speaking of nametags, or "badges" as they're called;

I forgot an interesting thing that happened during my orientation

I was sitting watching one of the movies, and zoning out real bad

and the trainer lady came up behind me and said: "lemme have your badge"

and for a second I was so zoned out that I thought I was a detective being taken off of a case

and I actually started to get angry

but I snapped back to reality pretty quick and gave her my badge

[it needed to be laminated once they made sure they spelled my name right and such]

but I can only imagine the face I made for a second, and what the woman thought of it

anyway,

I don't think my supervisor likes me

there's a few supervisors for the front

one of which, named Ron, is super-cool

another; who I seem to have more contact with; is some woman whose name I didn't catch

and she doesn't seem to like me

maybe she was just PMS'ing or something

whatever

anyway, once it was time for me to clock out; since I screwed up with the punching earlier, I had to have my supervisor sign this slip saying when I clocked out and such

so I went to this podium to talk to one of them; but they weren't there

[I was told that if I stood there they'd see me and come over]

but before they could, this handicapped man in a wheelchair came up and asked me to help him with his shopping

my first impulse was to direct him to someone who wasn't about to clock out

but no one else was around, so I grabbed a cart and helped him out

not only were his legs paralyzed, but his hands didn't seem to work right; and during our time together he had some kind of spasm

now; I'm not really sure how to explain this

because I didn't really pity him or look down on him; I just saw him as another person

and I'm not trying to say this to seem like a good person or anything

but I helped him get his shopping done and take his stuff out to his car

and honestly I would have done it if I was off the clock

this feeling of altruism came over me from helping him; and it just feels so refreshing

and I just wanted to comment on that

because it felt nice

and if the managers or whoever want to get mad that I spent an extra fourty-five minutes on the clock helping that guy;

then I'll just tell them to cut it out of my pay, and treat it as if I had been off the clock

it doesn't matter to me

but whatever

anyway;

yesterday was my first day of work

and today was my first day off

which I celebrated by doing absolutely nothing

I meant to call Clinton

[and take a shower]

but I just sat around and played videogames

Wal-Mart also has a no blue jeans policy

and I only have two pairs of pants that aren't blue jeans

so I had to go buy some more pants tonight

and that's about it

although, buying one of the pairs of pants I delt with a cashier who was so bad that I was better than he was

it took him forever to get us rung-up

and he asked me: "do you plan on returning these?"

I actually had to physically stop myself from saying "well what would be the point of buying them if I was planning on returning them?"

I shoulda just said it

I'm too polite

that guy was an idiot and a horrible cashier

shit, I know what to do if the barcode doesn't scan

and I've only had one day of actual work

and even that was mostly standing around watching other people do the work

idiot

but anyway,

I must sleep now because I must get up and go to work tomorrow

so weird

in the back of my mind is still that fear

that "I can't do this; something's going to go wrong"

but I just have to suck it up and not think about it

that's all I can do, really

I don't know; I wanted to talk more about that, but the sleeping pill is kicking in

Adios Amigos

Well, I was born on a Sunday; On Thursday I had me a job.

I was born on a Sunday; By Thursday I was workin' out on the job.

I ain't never had no day off since I learned right from wrong.

Mama said I was bad, I did something to her head.

Mama said I was bad, I did something to her head.

And poppa threw me out, ooh, said, "I gotta earn my own way."

I ain't never been in trouble;

I ain't got the time.

I don't mess around with magic, child.

What I got is mine.

Whatever you say, Lord, well, that's what I'm gonna do.

Whatever you say, well, that's what I'm gonna do.

'Cause I'm the Working Man, Lord, and I do the job for you.

I ain't never been in trouble;

I ain't got the time.

I don't mess around with magic, child.

What I got is mine.

Every Friday, well, that's when I get paid.

Don't take me on Friday, Lord, 'cause that's when I get paid.

Let me die on Saturday night, ooh, before Sunday gets my head.

-The Working Man

Creedence Clearwater Revival

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