I Wish for Strength

    Today is day 3 of BlogFest 2012 and Sylvie over at Tree Girly asks what talent I would wish for.  There are many talents I would love to have, but the ones I have chosen today are detrimental for my very survival and tricky because I am unlikely for either to come true.

        If I was going to wish knowing without a doubt that I was going to get what I wish for I would wish for the ability to eat anything and everything I want and actually lose weight and  I would also wish for super strength.  In case any of you didn’t know I recently got a job working in the cafeteria at my daughter’s school.  Day 3 hit yesterday and I was in charge of trash and it just about killed me off.  The fact that I am still alive to tell the tale and the fact that I did laundry, made supper, helped the kids with their homework, and vacuumed after all this is just down right amazing.  There are 4 lunch periods filled to capacity to deal with and every single period easily fills 9-10 bags of trash.  We are not talking those little bathroom waste baskets.  We are talking those big honking heavy duty trash cans that are almost as big as I am.  I could not only get inside one of these trash bags and lose myself, but I am absolutely certain I could be joined by my husband, kids, dogs, and cat as well.

         Yesterday baked beans were on the menu and I swear not one of those kids ate that crap.  They came single file past the line of 8 trash cans banging their tray on each and every single one in an attempt to get those nasty beans to release the death grip they had on the tray.  It looked like chunks of vomit.   After a while, I could even imagine it smelled like chunks of vomit.   You have to keep on your toes and make sure the bags are only filled half way so you have any chance in hell of surviving what comes next.  My mentor told me to keep a close eye out in case one of the little darlings happen to miss the trash can and slop the crap on the floor.  I looked at her incredulously.  I mean you have got to be fucking kidding me!!  There I said it.   At 5’0, most of these kids are taller I am in 5th and 6th grade.  They are like mutants that got too close to a vat of radioactive goo.  Sometimes I hate being short!!  I can’t see diddly squat what is going on at their feet as they charge past.

         After the natives have gone, I have to hustle, tie the bags, load them in this big, honking cart and race them down to the dumpster.  This actually might not be bad if it was a straight shot.  Oh hell no!  You are going down hill with a cart the size of an elephant’s a$$ loaded for bear trying to not take out some foolish soul that has the stupidity to be ambling along in your way.  Don’t they know I don’t have a license for this trash cart from hell?  They should value their lives, because with that runaway cart from hell I surely don’t.  I am too busy trying not to crash.    Nothing before prepared me for what greeted me when I reached the dumpsters.  There is a little metal door on the side for my convenience that I nearly ripped half of my guts out to get open.  Since I am short and not especially the strong woman of the world type I have to lean my whole body into this area to hurl the bags to the very back.  You have to hold your breath.  The stench alone inside could stop an 8 day clock.  I about tossed my cookies before I ever got my face inside.  It is worse than any monumental fart that could be dealt.  I am seriously considering smuggling a can of febreze out there with me so I can stomach it.  Still thinking about where I could stick that and not get caught.  I am sure they would consider that contraband.

           The return trip is lighter, but it is uphill all the way.   I did that round trip 4 times yesterday and by the last one I began praying that I would die right then and there so I wouldn’t have to face the sweeping and mopping that was sure to come.  I did all of it.  I could not get my breath.  I actually felt bad that when it was ten till 2:00 PM, I only had a mere half of the lunch room mopped.  The other girls grabbed mops and joined me and finished the rest in no time.  I felt like a complete A$$ and failure.  It was the first time I had ever done trash and even though everyone assured me that I would get used to it, I hung my head in defeat when I went home.   If you asked me any other day, my wishes for talent may have been different.  To think I am slapping on a happy face and getting ready to go back for more!!  The problem is, I would rather die than give up.  Today I wish for strength and the ability to eat anything my heart desires and still lose weight until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.