You Know Who You Are

So here's the routine when I come to work:

I walk in.

I punch in.

Then I go to the back 'office' area, (If you can even call it that) and I read the 'message of the day' on the white board.

The white board is very important. In it lies the endless list of things that still need to be done, fault finding, usually grammatically incorrect, an ever so slight hint of positivity (rare) and 'have a great day' message from our manager.

Terrific.

I have to hunch over to read the board most times because most everyone I work with is considerably shorter than I, and then get to work. The messages usually don't apply to me but I read them anyways.

Well, in a word I am organized.

"A place for everything and everything in its place"
--Mother

Ive been taught well.

So anyone who is like me and has worked for fast food can relate to my daily frustration.

It may sound crazy, but I choose to do the dishes of my own free will and choice every time I work. It also helps that no one else ever does the dishes anyways.

Some how (in a sad kinda way) I derive a certain amount of satisfaction in creating order from chaos.

Take the sink for example. The sink area and every available surface in the surrounding area (including the floor) with its accumulation of dirty dishes awaits my daily rescue.

What would they do with out me?

Every night I work, I turn the danger zone into a systematically ordered work environment.

My favorite thing to do is to sort all of the lids by size, shape and type. The big lids go on the bottom shelf and small lids go on the upper shelf.

Its all so simple. No one else gets it.

Well, fast forward to tonight's shift and to my nightly organizational ritual...

First I begin the routine.

I walk in.

I punch in.

Hunch over to read tonight's message which reads:

"Please don't put all the small lids up on the top shelf! They are to be in reach of me! That includes the silver ones too!...

YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE."