Hold Life Like Water (CtrlPt2)

Somewhere between Mulberry and Charlotte Streets, I realized that there are some things I simply cannot do. 

This revelation is not one that I particularly wanted to have. If the (slightly truncated) earlier remarks on control were not clear, I like having it. I don't like to think that I have no ability to influence areas of my life. And true, there are times when I do so by not doing so, but my post-shift headache is on in full force and that just aggravates it. Point: I dislike feeling powerless. Point #2: Sometimes I can't do anything about it but accept it and move on.

Ejemplo: Today was brutal. It was alright from 8:30 until noon and then again from two until five. But in those two hours in between, Dominik and I faced a full board of tickets to the point where Eric had to turn them sideways and stack them at the end to fit. Suck a freaking egg. All we could do was give a wait of forty-five minutes and hope it would discourage one or two people while the rest had a degree of patience. There is only so fast that you can move when there are two of you working with two grills, one toast, and one and a half microwaves (one was blowing up eggs like World War III), plus you have to (as Carl puts it) dosie dough a lot to get things out of the bain. So we've finally dealt with all of the orders and I'm working on a stocking list and a few drink orders when Mandy announces that someone posted something on the Facebook page about how she had to wait 40 minutes for her to go bagel, and so on. Cue headache. And a certain sense of disappointment. Could we have done better? Maybe. We do try to send out cups of soup and bagels faster, the things that don't take any preparation. But anything that takes more than a cut and a toast will stay in the food line-up along with all of the other tickets, and we can't work any faster than we do. We did our best, it was over, and a customer had a complaint that I couldn't fix. 

Sometimes all I can do is ask God for the grace to lay down the arms of competence in an unconditional surrender. Today's example was a small one and not terribly significant in the grand scheme of my life, except that work = life for me for the time being. But in the small things I see the shadows of the big ones, and so it lies. I must hold life like water, and as it flows through my hands, untamed and untamable, perhaps if I am lucky the lines of my palms will leave an impress on its metamorphosing form.