Yeah, so my first day as a dishwasher a local restaurant was one week ago. I worked for 6 hours that night. It's my first "real" job, besides being a paperboy in 6th grade. However, there are some problems.
1. I have OCD, and I am germaphobic.
2. I was the only dishwasher.
3. Opening night was flipping ginormous.
I made it through that horrible night. Barely. It was my first night, so I wasn't sure what to do, I didn't know anyone, I was by myself, and I had a whooooole lotta work to do. But I made it. I came out hating the job already, but I lived.
The next morning, I came in expecting the same thing. I knew it'd be horrible, I almost wanted to quit right then. But I didn't, and it turns out the day is a whooole lot easier than the nights. Makes sense, cause most adults were at work. I was so happy that I actually would get a few minutes every once in a while to not do anything that I smiled. When I got off of work, I was happy the rest of the day because it was so much easier.
Cut to today. I hadn't worked since then til today cause it's only open three days a week. I was promised that someone would help me. They didn't come, cause another branch of the restaurant was too busy somewhere else. Once again, the place is flooded, and I'm the only dishwasher. So I wash the dishes. I get way too many dishes than I can handle. I keep going, from 5-9:30. Non-stop working, trying to keep up, cause everyone's running out of a certain kind of dish or utensil. Then I feel my stomach heave, and I go to the bathroom to throw up. Twice.
I come back to my dishwashing area, where no one is. I realize how much I truly hate this job and how I'd rather die. I actually start crying a little. Then I go back to the bathroom and throw up again. Then, once again, I go back to the place and I start washing the dishes. Some more. By this time the place was empty (thank God), but this is where the hardest dishes come in, cause you gotta wash all the different containers and stuff they used to make the food in, then put it all away, etc. This stuff is the most crusted, so it's hard to get off. The washing machine doesn't really get anything off, it just sanitizes.
So, I walk out into the main area to get more stuff to wash, tripping a little due to depression of the hellish place and tiredness (which I had been doing for a while), when one of my co-workers walks up and yells "HEY, HOW YA HOLDING UP BROTHER?!?" or something like that. He's a cool guy, they're all nice, but I wasn't up for saying hey or anything back. I said "I just threw up three times."
The rest of my workers (No customers, I wouldn't have said that if costumers were in the place) gasp and are all like "OMG WAT HAPPN3D?!?" and the guy said he'd clean up the rest of the dishes for me, and to go home. When we got away from everyone else, he asked me if I was sick, and I just told him I had OCD. I couldn't really say much cause my voice was all choked up and I didn't want to be a baby right there. So then I walk out, they tell me to be careful driving home and that they'll sign me out for me (I had forgotten due to all that was happening). When I got home, my parents asked me what was wrong, and I said something along the lines of "I hate that place", still in a choked voice. They tried talking to me, but I couldn't talk. I told them later. I wasn't being the typical jerky teenager, they knew something was wrong and that I really couldn't talk. So I took a shower and all that, but when I got out they were in bed.
I can't eat, just like the first day (btw, on the first day, after about 5 hours, I COULD eat...I just threw it up immediately after swallowing my whole bowl of soup). I also can't sleep, just like the first day. I am actually traumatized.
I know what I said probably doesn't make much sense. I probably sound like the biggest wimp ever. But I guess we all have our weaknesses, mine is having OCD and being a clean freak (in a manner of speaking, my room is dirty, but that's not the same as washing Italian sauces off the plate, getting soaked in that water while trying to clean said sauces off said plate, etc.)
I think on Sunday I'm gonna give my two weeks and try looking for a job that doesn't involve food. Sure can't wait to go to work tomorrow night.
Make fun of me, comfort me, share your own stories. I needed to say this.
1. I have OCD, and I am germaphobic.
2. I was the only dishwasher.
3. Opening night was flipping ginormous.
I made it through that horrible night. Barely. It was my first night, so I wasn't sure what to do, I didn't know anyone, I was by myself, and I had a whooooole lotta work to do. But I made it. I came out hating the job already, but I lived.
The next morning, I came in expecting the same thing. I knew it'd be horrible, I almost wanted to quit right then. But I didn't, and it turns out the day is a whooole lot easier than the nights. Makes sense, cause most adults were at work. I was so happy that I actually would get a few minutes every once in a while to not do anything that I smiled. When I got off of work, I was happy the rest of the day because it was so much easier.
Cut to today. I hadn't worked since then til today cause it's only open three days a week. I was promised that someone would help me. They didn't come, cause another branch of the restaurant was too busy somewhere else. Once again, the place is flooded, and I'm the only dishwasher. So I wash the dishes. I get way too many dishes than I can handle. I keep going, from 5-9:30. Non-stop working, trying to keep up, cause everyone's running out of a certain kind of dish or utensil. Then I feel my stomach heave, and I go to the bathroom to throw up. Twice.
I come back to my dishwashing area, where no one is. I realize how much I truly hate this job and how I'd rather die. I actually start crying a little. Then I go back to the bathroom and throw up again. Then, once again, I go back to the place and I start washing the dishes. Some more. By this time the place was empty (thank God), but this is where the hardest dishes come in, cause you gotta wash all the different containers and stuff they used to make the food in, then put it all away, etc. This stuff is the most crusted, so it's hard to get off. The washing machine doesn't really get anything off, it just sanitizes.
So, I walk out into the main area to get more stuff to wash, tripping a little due to depression of the hellish place and tiredness (which I had been doing for a while), when one of my co-workers walks up and yells "HEY, HOW YA HOLDING UP BROTHER?!?" or something like that. He's a cool guy, they're all nice, but I wasn't up for saying hey or anything back. I said "I just threw up three times."
The rest of my workers (No customers, I wouldn't have said that if costumers were in the place) gasp and are all like "OMG WAT HAPPN3D?!?" and the guy said he'd clean up the rest of the dishes for me, and to go home. When we got away from everyone else, he asked me if I was sick, and I just told him I had OCD. I couldn't really say much cause my voice was all choked up and I didn't want to be a baby right there. So then I walk out, they tell me to be careful driving home and that they'll sign me out for me (I had forgotten due to all that was happening). When I got home, my parents asked me what was wrong, and I said something along the lines of "I hate that place", still in a choked voice. They tried talking to me, but I couldn't talk. I told them later. I wasn't being the typical jerky teenager, they knew something was wrong and that I really couldn't talk. So I took a shower and all that, but when I got out they were in bed.
I can't eat, just like the first day (btw, on the first day, after about 5 hours, I COULD eat...I just threw it up immediately after swallowing my whole bowl of soup). I also can't sleep, just like the first day. I am actually traumatized.
I know what I said probably doesn't make much sense. I probably sound like the biggest wimp ever. But I guess we all have our weaknesses, mine is having OCD and being a clean freak (in a manner of speaking, my room is dirty, but that's not the same as washing Italian sauces off the plate, getting soaked in that water while trying to clean said sauces off said plate, etc.)
I think on Sunday I'm gonna give my two weeks and try looking for a job that doesn't involve food. Sure can't wait to go to work tomorrow night.
Make fun of me, comfort me, share your own stories. I needed to say this.
