day fifty
20th July 2013
eight pm.
A six-thirty start on a Saturday. Realised this too late; the bus I scheduled was weekday-only. Caught a more expensive service to the city and resented that my first hour at work would be spent paying off my fare.
Rota'd with the Home dept all morning and kept the floor by myself until nine, when R arrived. Some stockroom work, dressed furniture, scraped up the rug tape from the floor while customers tripped over me. Made a pretty horrific mistake which saw a woman almost walk off with a table for free, all in front of my manager. (The replen guy I told in the stockroom laughed and laughed and then questioned why I still had a job.) A three-hour shift turned into a six-hour shift when it got very busy. Cleaned up broken glass, cleaned up spilt coffee. No one interesting on the till, or perhaps I was just too busy to notice.
A missed call from Lu as I left. When I arrived at the bus station she was there. Talked about our days on the way home. I hadn't realised we'd needed a catch up. The cottage across the lane was having a bonfire while I tried to take photographs and the garden was heavy with drizzle and wood smoke. Lethargic. No proper conversation with J. Didn't even want to edit my Onehundred.
Very glad I booked enough shoots this summer to only need another week as a shopgirl. Days blur into one another at the moment, the eat-bus-work-bus-eat-sleep routine divided by evening hours with my camera. Today's picture sort of represents that, and also: middles. It is my midsummer; from here my days get shorter.
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