Day at the Deli

I was just laying on my floor (more like collapsed) after exercising and had a very strange sequence of thoughts that led me to my deli days during the summer after senior year. Now this was the only full time gig available in my small town and so what's a broke girl to do but sign herself up, right? I think that my brain must have somehow recognized the inconsequential nature of this job and, therefore, retained none of it. I remember trying to not slice my fingers off, vaguely remember washing dishes and mopping, but nothing...crisply. Nothing except for my lunch breaks. My sacred lunches were spent with a sandwich, a stolen doughnut if I was lucky, and Terry Gross asking all the right questions to some very interesting people. I remember these lunches so vividly, down to the order in which I'd eat my food, some of the people I'd see walking by, and the vehicles stopped by the drive thru bank windows.

I guess the older you get the more you realize how tricky your memories are.