The Wall

Every Tuesday I got to school instead of work. At school I take politics, economics, current events, food science, a decorating class (cakes, marzipan, sugar, etc.), math relating to baking, and laughably, P.E. All my classes are in German, and my teachers give no leniency for the fact that I have never formally learned to read or write in the language. I am treated exactly like all the other students, a fact that from the beginning I have accepted although bitched excessively about. I have fifteen classmates, ranging in age from seventeen to twenty-one: thirteen girls, two boys, and moi. I loath Tuesday, especially now that we are close to the end. Every Tuesday I walk home on the brink of screaming and pushing pedestrians into traffic. Today was no better, nor worse, then any other school day: my classmates and teachers made fun and laughed German, I was subjected to close-minded discussion on a variety of topics, struggled through every subject and came home tired, frustrated and pissed off.

At lunch I had called my boss’ daughter (which by birth makes her my other boss), to apologize for leaving some cookies in the refrigerator that I had forgotten to finish yesterday before leaving. I had gone to Zug (twenty minutes outside of Luzern) to go and see Lil’ Sam’s (a classmate) bake-off, and show my support. Somehow in the rush to leave, the cookies had forgotten and it wasn’t until eleven last night, as I laid awake in bed thinking about crap (mainly how stupid I was to give up the Cush), that I remembered. It was an honest mistake, the cookies were fine, and in the end another apprentice was able to finish them and they were sold. So what’s the big deal? It seems that the daughter didn’t bother to listen to the voicemail and instead just called me back to see what I had wanted. After apologizing again, and explaining what had happened, the daughter began to guilt me that she had already spoken to my boss and was quite disappointed with my lack of interest in finishing the product, especially considering that it is a product that will be featured in my bake-off, and that I shouldn’t worry, she has more then enough work for me tomorrow, in order to remind me not to be so forgetful (I should state here that she is six months younger then I am). In return I told her that once again, I had not purposely forgotten the cookies, that it had been an honest mistake and that I had only called in order to apologize and tell her that it really had only gone forgotten by accident and not on purpose, wished her a nice evening and hung up.

Everyday for three years I have lived my life for this apprenticeship. I was ready to move back to California a long time ago, right after I had walked out on my ex and gone home for Christmas and realized that the people who love me and appreciate for who I am, aren’t here in Switzerland. I have stayed because Switzerland afforded me the opportunity to finish my education cheaply and in away that I felt I could live with (i.e. work four days a week, and school for only one), not to mention doing something that I felt I could actually end up being good at. I love to bake and am passionate about my trade, because if I wasn’t I would be at Vic’s right now with friends drinking Gun Club punch; or would have told by boss’ evil bitch of a daughter to take the cookies and shove them up her fat ass.

It bothers me that the people I work for (the people I have been around most in the last three years, more then my family or friends) can’t seem to ever see me in a positive light. That they can’t/won’t/never will appreciate the fact that an employee would actually call in their free time to apologize for forgetting twenty cookies that they were still able to sell. That tomorrow morning they will try as hard as the pathetically can to make me feel bad and miserable and even more stressed then I am right now. Why after three years, of working hard, actually giving a shit, and trying my best, they still can’t like or appreciate me, I have a hard time just excepting. I am clear on the fact that not everyone will like me, but still can’t help but want them to.

This is the wall that I keep bumping into. I have spent shift after shift, month after month, and now year, after year, after year, trying to find a way around the dread and bad feelings that follow me into work each morning, only to still not have found a way around it.

It’s easy to say that these people are miserable in their own right and therefore I could never make them happy or even like me. That there is no point for me to stress, dread or have bad feelings, that it will soon be over and to just “rise above.” All of that is true, and I am fully aware it, unfortunately though, the wall still stands.

Reading over this blog (I am now sober and therefore can concentrate enough to read) I can’t seem to find my point. Maybe I just wanted vent, maybe I am looking for advice, or maybe I just realized that the biggest thing I gained from this apprenticeship was not to provide myself with a future beyond retail, but to learn sacrifice. To sacrifice my social life, love life and the comfort and security that being in California with the people who actually appreciate me for me, for the sake of my education and future.

I greatly appreciate the comments and love that people leave on the blog in support of me finishing up here. There was once a time where this blog was just stoned ramblings, a time that provided much more interesting blogs, a time I miss. The day after posting I usually go back and read what I wrote, and am disappointed that the blog has now turned into my own glorified bitch-fest. That’s the problem with this wall in front of me though, I can’t seem to get past it just yet, and until I do I am left with this.

In the end it’s experiences like this that remind me that life and who I am are usually defined on how I react to difficult experiences such as this. I guess I just always thought that I would find away around/over/under/through the wall before now.