Work

I work at a bakery. Its up at the morris center. Or, rather, it used to be. But the first day of work they told me that we would be moving to a new facility in a couple weeks. I thought that was exciting, but a couple weeks seemed too far away, so I stopped believing after a while and atop of that, I never even saw the building we were moving to, so I started to feel like we'd be at the morris center forever. Then one day I went to work and Garth, my demi-boss, said that Doug, my omni-boss, took the morning shift over to the new place and showed them all around. A tour. I really wished I had been able to go. It sounds really cool. A new bakery. The one we were working in was really old and tile floors and walls and stuff like that. All things cannot be said in a compass so small as a word, but it was dirty nonetheless.

Also, there's this girl at work that I don't work with (figure that one out!) who I am attracted to. I don't know why. She isn't particularly attractive. Fairly plain, but I always look at her when she walks by. Then one day I saw her at church and realized that she had sacrament meeting in the room right next to mine. I don't think I'll talk to her.

And then one morning at work, Garth told me that Doug had a special project for me and to meet him at the new building. I was about to ax where in the world the place was when Doug walked in and took me over there himself. So, we went over and it was really nice, except the creamery section where they were making the milk and such products had exploded and there was milk all over the place. I really think that's an often occurrence. But we went past that section to the new bakery part. It was really big and I felt like I was on a TV show like "Hell's Kitchen" or "Iron Chef" except I had no motivation to be the best and I really doubt they'll vote me off. They even talked about increasing the contestant count today. Also, there was not a single Japanese person there today. Ever.

All I've done since I've gone over to the new building is to sheet up cookies. Take cookie dough and run it through the machine that makes it the perfect size and weight (not perfect weight, its off by .1 or .2 ounces a lot) and then put them on a parchment papered baking sheet 6x4. The machine has a conveyor belt on it. I feel like Lucy sometimes, but I don't eat the chocolate. And it gets messy sometimes. A lot of little scraps fall onto the floor. I have to scrap them off later because I step on them and make them flat, so you can't get it off any other way.

The sheets are 6x4. I like to have patterns on how I put them on. I pick up two at a time off the machine and place them in the following order:

1 1 2 2

8 8 3 3

9 9 6 4

10106 4

11117 5

12127 5.

I don't think it makes it faster, but it sure helps me not go insane when I do that for four hours a lot. Plus sometimes the dough is frozen. In that case the machine can't process it. So, we take it out of the bucket it's in and then cut it up into very small pieces and wait for it to thaw. It usually is faster that way. I did that with oatmeal butterscotch cookies today. They call them 'scotchies'. Cute name. I always think people are talking to me instead of cookies when they say it.

The other day Doug told me to put away a large shipment of various ingredients we got to start up the new place. It took me a long time and there were a lot 50 lb bags and they were made of rough paper. Coupled with the way I held them in my arms gave me a lot of scratches on my forearms. But its okay because on my right forearm, I have two burns I got when pulling some things out of the oven. They didn't really blister. Just hurt. Now, they're just red spots.

Today, Some man in business casual and a shower cap came in and talked to someone. The get up lets you know that he's higher up than you. The shower cap let's you know that he values his hair. As he was leaving, he passed by me working on the cookie machine. Then he turned around at the door and took a couple steps toward me and said "You can tell your mom that they really trust you here at BYU. They let you handle a lot of dough." smiled and left. I haven't said a word to my mom.

Then I always leave work 15 minutes early so that I can get to class on time. Not that Japanese is all that important of a class. Just that the people at work told me to. But I think sometimes Doug gets a little frustrated and wished that I could stay for fifteen minutes and wait until the 2:oo guy came in. Nope.