undeserving

I just typed out all this crazy stuff, poem-shaped but not a poem. And then I deleted it. I never delete anything. It was a good thing to do. It feels too vain to let everything one creates exist without question.

I kind of started writing this story tonight. I didn't delete it. I'm excited but I don't want to jinx myself.

It's so hard to get over the fact that this is summer. It's both hard to believe and so natural a reality that I can't imagine it ever ending. But it will and I'll move to Richmond, Indiana and go to Earlham College and spend four years involved in studies and figuring out my life and eventually I need to take a few steps back to take it all in. But not tonight! Tonight I sleep.



(I got a meningitis vaccination today. My left arm feels a little funny but it's entirely worth it. College dorms and meningitis unfortunately go hand-in-hand.)

title

Tonight at work I bought this really nifty Mackinac Island Creamery baseball cap to wear instead of the ugly navy blue visor that never really cooperated with my hair after I got layers. The hat has the seal of the new brand of ice cream we're selling, and it's really comfortable. I'm so excited.

Tonight was really fun. My boss and I seemed to have a lot to talk about, which felt great because it wasn't an especially busy night and it's always a big confidence-boost when I feel like I'm really communicating with the person who is literally in control of my job.

One of the best parts about my job is that there are components of both power and humility.

Power: my boss trusts me enough to leave me in the store alone if he needs to run an errand. It feels so good to know that I won't panic if I get busy. Tonight he was gone for about ten minutes to buy milk and bananas. While that wasn't very long, I had quite a crowd but everything was fine. It feels almost thrilling to know that I am literally the person making the Silver Dipper operate, regardless of how temporary and superfical that momentary operation is. (I don't have delusions of grandeur; I know my boss is the true operator.)

Humility: sometimes I just know that a customer thinks I am an idiot. There was this one lady tonight who probably wouldn't have believed me if I told her I had a high school diploma. From time to time I have misunderstandings when people say "double scoops." Sometimes they mean two scoops in one container, sometimes they mean they want to order two single scoop containers. In this case, I thought she was getting two double scoops, one of two butter pecan and one of a butter pecan and a praline & pecan. I was wrong! She wanted one cup with one each of the two flavors mentioned! She had to explain this three times because she was a confusing person and I wasn't catching on very quickly. Then she ordered a double scoop of what she called "no sugar chocolate." This happens to be our Low Carb Chocolate, which is Splenda-sweetened and unfortunately has a higher fat content than regular ice cream. Because I wanted her to know what she was getting into, I said "OK, two scoops of Low Carb Chocolate." She replied, "Sugar-Free Chocolate," as if her patience was undergoing a serious test. And I nodded and smiled and said "Yes, it's the Low-Carb Sugar-Free kind." Then I figured that if she was going to think I was an idiot, I may as well compensate by being extra-polite. A nice-idiot is better than a snappy-idiot, which is what I merely appeared to have become with the Low-Carb statement. Unfortunately, when I handed her her change, she dropped the pennies during the transfer from my hand to hers. It wasn't my fault but I apologized, and she was nice about it. Still, I just knew she knew I was an idiot.

I think it's probably a good thing to have this combination of power and humility. Especially when baseball hats are involved.