Did You Find Everything Okay

Four hours. That's all it was. Four hours on the register and I came home and stood in front of the open fridge for so long that the little light inside it started to feel like company.

The thing about cashiering that nobody tells you, or maybe they do tell you and you think they're being dramatic, is that it's not physically exhausting so much as it's mentally repetitive in a very specific way. You say the same six phrases in the same order, roughly three hundred times, and then you go home and your brain just sort of... idles. Like a car that's been running too long at low speed. I got back to my apartment and genuinely could not remember if I'd eaten lunch. I had. It was a granola bar in the break room.

one can of soup. she deserves better. we both do.

The funniest part of today, and I'm using 'funniest' loosely, the way you use it when you're tired, was a single can of soup. One item. A lady came through my lane with one can of soup, no loyalty card, exact change, and it still somehow took four minutes. I don't know how. I couldn't reconstruct it if I tried. The can and I just looked at each other afterward.

the granola bar is helping. the granola bar is not helping.

Anyway. Spring Break is technically happening right now, which is funny because my schedule looks exactly like it always does. Shift, home, granola bar, stare into fridge. I've been meaning to go for a run in the mornings, I've actually been doing it, which is new and good, but today I think the couch wins. The run will be there tomorrow. The couch is here right now and it knows what I've been through.