#437

Liking the movie theater work. Perhaps I was born to be culture's most open and servile gatekeeper. 

Actually it barely seems real. Too wild not having the superhuman demanded of you. Normal, human expectations around normal, human work?

I keep expecting someone to tell me they need to pull two gruelingly physical doubles in a row or I'm fired. And instead it's like, "are you okay with sweeping up these ten popcorn kernels? I can get someone else if you're not feeling it right now, though. It's enough that you're standing there. I appreciate you."

Could I have been working here this whole time? Is this even real, here, now? What other shoe will drop, possibly from airplane height to kill me on the spot?

*

Some kid asked me if I knew how to fill a 3-compartment sink when I said I was down to wash the ten whole objects that need washing at the end of the night.

Perhaps too well, I had to tell him, suppressing real belly laughter. Never in my life have I even conceived of such an easy time at the triple sink. Astonishing. Can't believe people live like this.

*

I am grateful, awed even. But I have a lot of other feelings, too. Like, what? What?

*

Everyone is really, really nice and fun to talk with, also. WHAT? 

*

Mustn't let my guard down. Everything has its cutting edges and tragedy isn't something that only happens to strangers elsewhere. 

S'nice, though.

--JL