There was a power surge at work today and the register got fried.
We had to do everything manually -- write down absolutely everything that people bought, add their totals in our heads, and figure out tax and change. Also, somebody went home early, so the lunch rush was... well... a rush.
I hit the panic button for approximately 20 minutes, during which I went into HelenaNeutral. I've passed exactly two high-school-level math courses in my entire life, and I'm supposed to know how to freaking add and subtract now?
"Mathematics is found everywhere in nature..." --Pi
But nothing could ever compare to working in a post office at Christmas time. Nothing. And so I was okay. I was fine. I came back into the real world after my twenty-minute break and just... worked. That's it.
I find it highly ironic that I am in the business of serving people who are on their own lunch breaks and trying to relax.
Eight hours, six of which was spent trying to freaking subtract.
And now, off to my other job, for another eight hours, six of which will likely be spent cleaning up grease and slop with a bunch of biggots. Ew. Freaking ew.
I NEED A FUCKING MASSAGE.
~Helena*