Nervous Nellie

So, I got the job that I was interviewing for a while back.  It's been an alright gig at this point. 
I'm working with Ashley right now, which I was a little wary about, but again, it's been okay.  We did stock the other day, and the two of us got super fast at getting stuff done.  She would open the box, and I would pull out all the packing stuff (in this case, mostly that brown paper they wad up).  Then she would go through the inventory checklist and I would move the stuff onto the storage shelves.  If there was extra still, she'd move those products too.  And then whoever had their hands free next went to get the next box, and we moved all over again.  We were very efficient, and I was happy as a clam.
Out on the floor, things were not so simple.  I'm struggling to learn the cash register.  Certain things were never taught to me and other things are just confusing.  My superior told me not to be nervous, and that made me feel bad, because I honestly don't feel particularly nervous.
Interacting with the customers went very well.  A young woman who worked at the caf at school came in, and I jokingly said that I visited her at her workplace, so she could visit me at mine.  And then my Mom and sister came in. 
Later on, a woman with four young girls came in looking for a game.  I sold them a game by American Girl called I Wish.  One of them cried a little at not getting something else, but there are occasionally tears around here.  Parents usually handle it, and it's okay.  

Make Yourself Invisible

That morning I had sat at the table eating cereal while my parents fought.  Someone stole some stuff from us way back in November, and we were still getting stuff squared away with insurance.  (Insurance did not pay us out as much money as we believed they would.)  My Mother was trying to get some photos and scans of the new things so that we could have them on record.  The scanner was in the other room.  She turned it on and then tried to work on the next picture with her camera while the thing was scanning.  My Father came in and turned it off and it angered her he couldn't ask. 
"I want you to leave," she yelled at him.  And he did. 
I do what every body does when someone is having a fight in front of you: make yourself invisible.  I hurriedly tried to finish my cereal and then put stuff away, but I got a front row seat anyway. 
I've been thinking a lot about this fight, not because it's rare (it's rather typical) but because a few of my friends have been discussing their own families fighting with me this week.  Everyone mentions the frustration and stress of it, and Jennifer particularly addressed how she felt like she had never seen a relationship up close that worked. 
I am now of the impression that no one knows how to make a relationship work, that humans understand virtually everything better than relationships. 
And people wonder why I'm so cynical about these matters. 

Serial Caller

My little sister has a little girl that she likes to babysit.  My sister decided that we should take her out to see a movie. 
As we were driving there, my sister complained about how the parents had been bugging her about when they were going.  "I'm doing them a favor," she said.  "Don't give me a hard time about it." 
I'm surprised to hear this from her, since she usually says that she likes these people.
At the theater we ran into problems.  The parents informed us that this little girl should have lemonade, which meant that the theater didn't have any.  So we were forced to go with fruit punch.  The first thing that I thought was that she was going to spill on herself. 
It took her one sip. 
The little girl was mostly well-behaved.  She sat up a lot during the movie, she squirmed in her seat, but mostly was fine.
We took her home.  Her parents weren't there yet.  "Somehow, I knew that was going to happen," my sister said.  I had been thinking the same thing.  I often feel like these people are taking advantage of us.  We're always doing them favors and they're always treating us in shaky ways in return.
The other thing that surprised me was that they had gone to a shooting range.  For people who apparently can't afford to pay a babysitter, they have tons of money for impractical cars, a guitar and bullets.  I don't mind guns, but I don't trust these people so I don't want them to have a gun.
As we drove home, my sister told me about her friend Anna.  Anna's car broke down, so they sent it to the patriarch, and she made cookies and took the little girl to the zoo for the day. 
My sister complained about how often the matriarch calls my Mom.  It's excessive.  She's also what I would call a serial caller, which is someone who calls and calls and calls, all without stopping much inbetween individual calls.  It's a really irritating habit, especially if it's not an emergency.  (If it's an emergency, than it's acceptable.  Otherwise, stop.  If someone's not picking up, they probably have a legitimate reason or they aren't near the phone to know you're calling anyway.)