The Glorious Life of a Cannon Center Custodian

Funny experience of the day: Today in German class, one of my classmates had to introduce/describe himself, and one of the things he meant to say was that he has "zwei Arme," which means "two arms." This, unfortunately, is very close to "drei Arme," which means "three arms," which is what he said instead. Everyone laughed. Fantastic start to the day. :)

Today, I was almost late to work. This was because I was watching a movie with my roommates. Ironically enough, the movie was "The Devil Wears Prada."

I could probably have a blog completely dedicated to my experiences working custodial at the Cannon Center (Freshman Cafeteria of Helaman Halls at BYU). It's full of fun people, which makes the somewhat mundane work worthwhile. I could also probably have a complete blog dedicated to my complaints about the Freshmen who eat there. I mean, seriously. I think the biggest mystery of today was why on earth there were a bunch of crumbs and lettuce leaves down the hall, beyond where you put your trays away. Did they put up their trays and then realize "oh, whoops! Looks like I left this lettuce in my pocket (or wherever else this Freshman would have been keeping his lettuce, other than on his tray). I guess I'll just dump it here!" Another mystery to me was how one kid apparently managed to leave a fork on the floor. I feel like you would know if you dropped your fork. You know, the pronged silver device that you use (or should use) to put food from your plate into your mouth. But perhaps it's best if I limit my complaints, as they are about the very people who give me a job... Especially since I was one of them last year.

Honestly, I don't really mind a lot of the stuff. There are days where I leave work never wanting to ever see another curly fry in my life, but they aren't hard to clean up (providing no one has mashed them into the floor), and though I am baffled by the multitude of fries that litter the floor, I can understand one or two of those getting lost off of a few trays. In fact, I like sweeping them up. It gives me a strange sense of satisfaction, like I'm making a difference in my little corner of the world. I can look down and say "look at this floor. It was once disgraced with the hideous shape of a misplaced curly fry. But now, behold! The floor is clean and pristine, and ready for more Freshmen to dump things on it!" The things that bother me are produce, like lettuce leaves and tomato slices, which do not have an excuse to fall to the floor, as far as I'm concerned, and are very wet, and thus do not like to be cleaned up with a dustmop. But somehow I survive. Again, really, it's not that bad.