I felt like keeping a little log of some of the gifts that I received this holiday. 

• Shauna bought me Grinch pajama pants, and a Scranton shirt. Now I can represent her school. 
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• And my dad bought me a hat with a JHU logo on it, so I can represent my own school. 
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• My parents also bought me a Kindle Fire, which still remains in the plastic it was packed in. I’ve also purchased books of Bob Hicok’s poetry to fill said Kindle. I’m going to have to contain myself a bit before I buy everything. 
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• A group of my friends were in involved in a Secret Santa exchange. My friends Jaimie, as my Santa of Secrecy, bought me an Adventure Time shirt and a water bottle from The Met. 
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• Half of Felicia’s present to me is this I <3 Boobies belt with Breast Cancer facts on the inside. I will receive the other half tonight. Topless TuesWednesday? Yeah. Yeah… (And I can’t deal with my computer. Why is this upside-down?)
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• My mom got me this bracelet, which I supposed could be a necklace as well. 
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• My girlfriend bought me a book of Rodin’s Drawing and Watercolors, filled with pictures and analytical essays. 
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• And some money, too. 

I’ve been home for a week. Well, come tomorrow it will be a week. 

I feel like it has gone so fast and I’m becoming very anxious about how I’m going to schedule my remaining two weeks before I need to go back to school for three weeks of fencing. Yes. Three weeks consisting only of fencing. No classes. No clubs. No assignments. Just fencing; five days a week, six hours a day. 

Anyway, this week has been filled with work. As soon as my mother could put an apron on me, I was in the bakery filling cannolis and carrying trays and doing anything and everything my mom barked at me. The holidays are always very busy for the bakery, as I’d imagine every store is busy. The preparation for the bombardment of customers that will arrive on Christmas Eve and stragglers of Christmas Day is tedious and long. We stand for a majority of the day, only bending our knees to sit for lunch, squat down for something, use the stairs, or take a bathroom break. Constantly being on your feet can take a toll on your feet and legs. My feet are pretty sore and my shins have inconsistently been giving me problems for the last few months. I’ve resorted to wearing these clunky clogs in an effort to sustain the well-being of my lower limbs. 

The days are long, and I marvel at the dedication of my mother, uncles, brother, and some of the other girls and guys that are there before opening to midnight, roughly hours 7 AM to 12 AM and sometimes later. Even though I came to work late today (11 AM), I still managed to fit in 12 hours. You are constantly moving, constantly stacking or filling or carrying or painting or rolling or cupping or sugering something. It’s constant. 

There is something about repetitive, manual work that I like. I would prefer to stack cookies than to talk on the phone with costumers. I like to think of myself as the packing mule; the one doing all the handy work and filling in the gaps where a worker is needed. It’s an Renaissance-Man sort of job. I work the men’s table (old traditions remain, but can be broken), I buttercream cakes, I bring things to the post office, I wing butterflies and soak babas. I learn to do a little bit of everything. Well. Not everything. I’m not very good with working the counter. I stay away from the counter on the holidays. People get a little scary when it’s Christmas Eve and they want their lobster tails. Really want them. 

Meh. My computer is dying. I’m sleepy. I just want to talk to my girlfriend and make time to see her and see my other friends and get some fencing in and maybe go to the gym a few times and visit my high school properly and other things. But for now, I’ll just sleep. Because before you know it, it’s going to be 6:30 AM and I’ll be in my apron and chunky clogs by 7 AM, filling cakes. 

On the bright side, there are really only three more days of bakery madness. 

It started with a bra and some Skippy peanut butter…

And then all hell broke loose.

Aww man, the things I can get away with while Jackie is a computer. While she is my computer girlfriend. She get’s all the underwear and peanut butter. 

But sadly, none of the cuddles. That is what pen and paper are for. 

I can’t deal with people asking me for my notes or to study with me so they can pretty much use me for my notes. 

This one guy keeps asking me and I keep trying to dodge it. In high school, there were so many times where people used me for my notes or homework or study guides and I generally didn’t say no to anyone. But now I’m all “Dude. I went to these classes. I took these notes. I cared. You didn’t. If your work shows poor performance it is probably a reflection of poor participation and involvement. And I’m not to blame for that.”

Sure, it’s as easy as sending an email. Copy. Paste. Send. Right? But then it becomes “Can you help me with this paper?” or “Can I borrow $50?” or “id onrtewkl owh wherrrrrrrrri am. Helppppmkpe????” (aka drunk texts asking for some help). Like, I like working alone. I like studying alone. I like writing alone. I like making things on my own. I take care of my shit on on my own. I rarely ask for people to help me. My brother would go running to my dad asking questions about his English papers or his accounting homework. I just did what I had to do, no questions or requests asked. 

I mean, I’m a generally helpful person. But this is what I’m passionate about and if you plan on loafing around I have no sympathy for you.