And this scar was caused by sleep deprivation

I should have listened to one of my assistant managers / shift leaders. "Be careful these are knives, you could cut yourself." Okay, maybe he didn't say the last part, but it was implied by his tone of voice.

I didn't want to post much about work since it can't be interesting to read about. I could go into detail about all the things I've learned, like what the ring around the handle of the pressure washer (what I call the faucet spout) is for (it can be slipped over the handle to hold it down, creating an endless stream of water). Until I saw another dishwasher use it, I just thought it jingled there without a purpose. While these discoveries help me perform my job better, I won't subject anyone to reading about them.

However, I have spent most of my time this summer at work, so sadly there's not a lot else that's going on.

Last night I couldn't fall asleep at a reasonable hour, even by my standards. (3 A.M. is pretty reasonable for me, though I don't usually stay up until 3 for weeks at a time) I popped in Das Boot, which is a favorite movie of mine, and tried to fall asleep. I like watching foreign movies, especially if I want to learn the language. Das Boot, however, must be watched, not merely listened to while trying to fall asleep (fun fact - I put in LOTR and fall asleep on average of 2-3 nights a week) because there are long sections with sparse dialogue which help to build the tension.

Anyway, around 3:30 in the morning I felt the need to read the LOTR to remember what Pippin actually dropped down the well (it's a small stone, not a skeleton and bucket). The one thing I wish the movies had more room for is the beautiful poetry and I read until at least 5. It's a pleasant feeling to have gotten sucked back into a book, but then you realize you are dead tired.

So I woke up to my alarms 3 and a half hours later and finally rolled out of bed for work at 9 A.M. Of late I have woken up feeling like I am paralyzed after all my muscles exploded. I drove to work and clocked in. After wandering around the parking lot with a broom and dustpan looking for cigarette butts, I was told I had to scrub down the containers they use for iced tea and the like.

I moved at approximately 1 mph, starting to put the pitchers through the washing machine first. A server named April came in and started cleaning the iced tea dispensers. I didn't realize there was a layer of some kind, probably residue from the cleaning solution they had been soaking in, over most of the pitchers and dispensers. I ran things 3 times more than I should have, had my brain been fully functioning. Eventually everything got clean, mostly thanks to April.

In addition to the growing pile of dishes from the kitchen I needed to clean, Ben, the manager, had ordered new silverware and left them for me. Again, April alerted me to their presence by starting to unwrap them and place them in the silverware bin for washing. Wanting to actually do my job, I helped her rip serrated dinner knives out of plastic bags. The second before it happened I distinctly remember thinking to myself, "I need to be careful and not open these bags by tearing them with the tip of the knife with the serrated edge towards my hand."

I forgot to mention that at the time April was in the middle of brushing her teeth while opening silverware. The image of a 40 year old waitress brushing her teeth in the kitchen while preparing for the day struck me as humorous.

The cut wasn't too bad, but it was deep enough that I knew it would bleed all day unless I found a band-aid. Did I seek out help? Of course not. I grabbed a paper towel and held my finger, wondering how I would do my job without bleeding on all of the dishes I would be cleaning. April, the savior of my morning, found some band-aids in the office and put them on my finger. I thanked her several times. I washed dishes for a few hours and I assume she finished brushing her teeth and waited on some tables. Ben let me go early. I hope he didn't notice my rather lackluster performance this morning. Just the other day I got two compliments on how good I was at dish.

Given my propensity for scarring easily, I might have one on my left index finger pretty soon. I can't play violin with my band-aid. Right now I'm so out of practice I sound horrible anyway.

So it's almost 3 A.M. and I want to try to get to sleep earlier so I can watch the Germany - Spain soccer game at 1:30 tomorrow before going to work at 5. Good night!