Heels to Hairnet

How else to you dress up a Prison-Cell-Gray-Generic Polo for Halloween?

If you had asked me 5 years ago where I would be in 5 years I can assure you it wouldn't be living alone in a 2 bedroom house with three kids and two dogs with no job. Nor would I tell you I would be an unsuccessful lunch lady. Many of you have asked since you read my blog post (Annoyed) where I work since I commented that I had to go to a job I hate.  Let me give you a little history...I've worked in a law firm most of my adult life closing real estate transactions. With the exception of a few realtors I pissed off over the years everyone would probably tell you I kicked butt at my job. Last summer when my marriage had taken a major downward spiral and in an attempt to make my home life a little less stressful I decided to quit my job and take a job working for the school system with Child Nutrition which is the fancy name for lunch lady. The hours were perfect...8:00-2:30 and I would work when the kids were in school and be off when they were out of school. The money wasn't great...who am I kidding, the money sucked but since my husband and I were together it was fine because we wouldn't rely so much on my income anyway. Again, the hours were perfect. So, I take this job and the Head Lunch Lady, who I'll call Gru because she reminds me of the main dude from Despicable Me, offered me a manager position. I accepted it and started at the beginning of the school year. Another dramatic turn happened in my marriage again, my husband and I separated. My first couple of weeks was tough because of the craziness of my personal life and having to adjust to huge changes at home. Not only that but school was starting for my kids which is crazy by itself. August went sort of like this...quit my job, start training for new job, moved out of my house into my sister's house with the kids, court, school started for the kids and serving lunch to 500 middle schoolers started for me. Oh I forgot to mention that I had to be at work AT 6:00 a.m. with a 20 minute commute. Gru was kind enough to work with me on the difficulty of getting 3 kids up and out the door to be at work at 6 and said I could start coming in at 7 instead. Amazing what an hour can do!

I probably shouldn't have said I HATE it. With a few exceptions like --the three awesome ladies I got to spend my day with...One who is in her 60s that could work circles around anyone I know, one who has the kindest, sweetest spirit and another who shares my sarcastic sense of humor--I was not a fan of being a lunch lady. I also loved the kids...well, most of them. The one that sucked his teeth at me one day I wanted to ask him if he wanted to pick his teeth up off the floor but most of them are so sweet.  A kid said one day the hamburgers didn't look like beef so I told him there were some stray cats hanging out at the dumpster that morning so I "cooked 'em up". Poor kid chose pizza that day. I found myself having conversations about shoe wedgies and eye boogers. I liked that part.  The part I didn't like was when Gru or either of her Minions would show up out unexpectedly and mess up our Mo-jo. Geez, just leave well enough alone. They'd hover over us like a dag-um Harrier Jet and say things like "why are you serving biscuits instead of rolls?" well, we ran out of rolls so we are substituting. Then I'd hear how biscuits change the analysis for that day, blah, blah, blah. I want to take her to the trash can and let her take a peak in there at all the Effing biscuits that are floating around. That, my friend, is what throws off your analysis. You are feeding these kids rolls and biscuits that taste like cardboard!  Anyway, my manager status earned me a whopping .30 more per hour. So I got the pleasure of signing my name to a document every afternoon that put my arse on the line for $2.40 extra a day. So after doing it for the first half of the school year I "resigned" as manager after Christmas break. Gru and her minions decided they didn't have a worker position available for me so I was left jobless. I think it had more to do with me not kissing their hineys when they came around but oh well. Maybe I need to work on my attitude or maybe I just work better without a hairnet and heels (or flip flops) on my feet.

Disclaimer: My hairnet is off to the ladies that do that job day in and day out with little recognition and very little pay. They rock at what they do and I'm by no means downplaying it. Personally, it's not the job for me.



Let me just tell you how hot a pizza pan is straight out of a cafeteria oven. Yep, that's my arm.