I work at retail, so my average day is “targets”, “targets”, and more “targets”. And oh, smelling like perfumes we can’t afford, putting on colgate smiles even when we actually want to punch a customer on the throat, and running like athletes selling clothes we can’t equally afford.
In retail, a person is expected in a day to make more money than he earns in a whole year, and if you think that is preposterous, wait until you see the staff dancing like Michael Jackson celebrating having sold goods worth R58 000 in a day and met their “targets”, and in the end earning about R2 100 in a whole damn month, what about meeting your personal targets?
Anyway, this piece isn’t about how the rich gets richer and poor get poorer because their sweats and tears are responsible for the richer’s riches and only if they could employ that very same level of commitment towards attainment of their own personal goals. This piece is just about time, not in some deep philosophical way, but just about regular hours on my days off.
I may not be necessarily patriotic about reaching targets of R58 000 a day, R 400 000 in a single week and R 1 2400 000 in a month whilst being compensated around R 25 000 a year, but I still love my job. I love keeping busy, being around people to study human behavior, smiling at beautiful ladies and being of “service”, I work with about 90% women colleagues and 100% female customers, so what’s there not to love?
Loving my job as I do, I can’t help but feel time loves us just as much. Work hours are not regular hours; at work, you stand up, dust rakes, hang clothes, sweep the floor, open the door, assist about 80 customers and check time, and it’s only been about 15 minutes; the very same 15 minutes you lose as soon as you pull out a sit on your tea break.
And time on your day off isn’t from the same clock as a work day. Today I was off, the plan was to wake up early, do my house chores, write blog articles, read, spend some quality time with my girlfriend, go lvisit my friends, and listen to the ‘Think And Grow Rich’ audio book. But, I woke up, decided it was still too early so I went back to bed for a couple of minutes (and woke up three hours later), by then it was too late for house chores and so I called my girl over and in a blink she had left (after about five hours), so I just went for a haircut and the barber was extremely efficient (in about an whole hour), and so after that I couldn’t read, write, listen to my audio book or hang out with my boys, so I just went to buy a take away because it was too then late to cook, and surprisingly, all the shops were already closed.
And there goes my day off.