Don't you love how ambitious we are when we go to bed at nigh? "Let's see...tomorrow I'm going to get up 3 hours early so I can put air in my car tires, buy some art supplies, get a key copied, study for my next two classes, re-arrange my apartment, and come up with a plan to end world hunger." Right. And what do you do? Your alarm goes off at 5:30 in the morning, you hit it and roll over, sleeping soundly until you have exactly enough time to throw on some clothes, speed to class, and get there exactly two minutes late.
Alright, alright, so I exaggerate just a bit. Needless to say, I had planned to do a lot more than I got done this morning. Which would be fine, but I took on someone's shift tonight, so I'm working until 12. Is it sad that I hesitated to say I could pick up her hours because I really really wanted to see the season premier of "Gilmore Girls"? And I'm 20? Is that really sad? Because, you know...I really don't care. And I'm not going to mention the fact that I was going to tape it, but I'm too lazy to buy a tape and figure out if my roomate's VCR works.
I just saw one of the strangest creatures to ever traipse through the computer lab. A woman (at least, I'm nintey percent sure it was a woman) enveloped in a tye-dyed, sheer, flowy dress (that went a little too far above the knees for my taste) with a pair of white keds, white rolled-down socks, a giant tortishell clip thing in her hair, and a fighteningly pink shade of lipstick just wandered around for five minutes, sat down at the computer next to me, and then left. It was just really, really scary. I wish I'd taken a picture. But that might've been too mean.
I got out of my Gourmet Foods class early today--we took a tour of Sodexho and the cafeteria (known more fondly as "The 'Rott"). It was actually fairly interesting, and it definitely convinced me that I could never work in food services by choice. Maybe, maybe I could be a waitress somewhere. Maybe. But that's it. And to be honest, I've never really wanted to do that. I think I would just get so tired of all the running around and dealing with rude people and loudness that it wouldn't be fun anymore. Who knows, though, when I start looking for a job next semester that might be what I end up with. Anyway, food service is a lot more complicated than I ever thought about. It's one of those thing where I know that there's a lot more going into getting food than someone just slapping it on my plate, but I never really wanted to consider the depths of. But believe me, they're there--depths that reach down to a hundred and seventy-four pounds of pasta stored in the back for one meal, and eighty gallon vats of horseradish sauce, and the fact that they spend sixty thousand dollars a week on food for the students. Sixty thousand dollars! That's more than I'll probably end up making a year. That's just crazy.
Despite the fact that so much money is spent on food, I am ever so thankful to be NOT eating at the Rott anymore. I'm happy that instead of long lines and decisions between which scary thing I want slapped on my plate, I can fix myself chicken enchiladas or go over to my friend's house and grill salmon. Moral of the story? I'm really glad I live off-campus.
Really, really glad.
Alright, alright, so I exaggerate just a bit. Needless to say, I had planned to do a lot more than I got done this morning. Which would be fine, but I took on someone's shift tonight, so I'm working until 12. Is it sad that I hesitated to say I could pick up her hours because I really really wanted to see the season premier of "Gilmore Girls"? And I'm 20? Is that really sad? Because, you know...I really don't care. And I'm not going to mention the fact that I was going to tape it, but I'm too lazy to buy a tape and figure out if my roomate's VCR works.
I just saw one of the strangest creatures to ever traipse through the computer lab. A woman (at least, I'm nintey percent sure it was a woman) enveloped in a tye-dyed, sheer, flowy dress (that went a little too far above the knees for my taste) with a pair of white keds, white rolled-down socks, a giant tortishell clip thing in her hair, and a fighteningly pink shade of lipstick just wandered around for five minutes, sat down at the computer next to me, and then left. It was just really, really scary. I wish I'd taken a picture. But that might've been too mean.
I got out of my Gourmet Foods class early today--we took a tour of Sodexho and the cafeteria (known more fondly as "The 'Rott"). It was actually fairly interesting, and it definitely convinced me that I could never work in food services by choice. Maybe, maybe I could be a waitress somewhere. Maybe. But that's it. And to be honest, I've never really wanted to do that. I think I would just get so tired of all the running around and dealing with rude people and loudness that it wouldn't be fun anymore. Who knows, though, when I start looking for a job next semester that might be what I end up with. Anyway, food service is a lot more complicated than I ever thought about. It's one of those thing where I know that there's a lot more going into getting food than someone just slapping it on my plate, but I never really wanted to consider the depths of. But believe me, they're there--depths that reach down to a hundred and seventy-four pounds of pasta stored in the back for one meal, and eighty gallon vats of horseradish sauce, and the fact that they spend sixty thousand dollars a week on food for the students. Sixty thousand dollars! That's more than I'll probably end up making a year. That's just crazy.
Despite the fact that so much money is spent on food, I am ever so thankful to be NOT eating at the Rott anymore. I'm happy that instead of long lines and decisions between which scary thing I want slapped on my plate, I can fix myself chicken enchiladas or go over to my friend's house and grill salmon. Moral of the story? I'm really glad I live off-campus.
Really, really glad.
posted by Crystal at 1:07 PM
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