Managing the Silence

So I've worked at the art store for about a month and my boss has gone on vacation and left me in charge of the whole operation. Fortunately, it's been raining constantly since she left, so I haven't needed to bother with her outdoor plants. Other than that, my responsibilities are limited: serve the handful of customers that come in during the day, sum up the cash register at the end of my shift, and keep the books up to date.  Still, of all the retail positions I've had, this is the first time I've been given a key and an alarm code.

I've also been making an excel database of all the artwork in the store.  My goal is to be finished that project by the time she gets back.

Sitting in the empty store, accompanied only by the sound of a ticking clock and humming laptop, I sometimes think fondly of my less mom-and-pop employers.  Like the late great Blockbuster video, which had an endless lineup on Saturdays, or Old Navy, where the music was so loud that I couldn't hear my thoughts, let alone the customers. Most of the time, however, I'm glad for the peace and solitude.

V is for Van Gogh

For the past three days I've been working at an art supply store, a Mom & Pop business that has been there for 35 years. Such a change from the retail stores worked in in my youth.  Everything is handwritten, from the price stickers to the records.  The owner is also a painter and her work is displayed around the store. I can count on my hand the number of customers I serve during a shift. Most of the time my boss is teaching an art class in the downstairs of the building.  Since I'm new, a former employee comes in to help me, but next week I'll be on my own.

This leads me to wonder, would my boss notice/care if I brought my laptop in and wrote?  So far, I've had more downtime in the store than even a good day at home with the kids. At the end of my first day, my boss said "You must be tired", and I had to stop myself from laughing.

Thanks to my Mom, who has been watching Will and Jadzia all this week, my friend Columbia who will watch them when Mom can't, and my nephew Hunter who agreed to walk William home from school.  I'm not going to be making enough to give a babysitter the going rate, so I'm very grateful for my supportive family and friends.

And yes, I realize that this post has nothing to do with Van Gogh, but he did paint in oils, which we sell, so he could have shopped at the store if he had lived an extra ninety years (and immigrated to Canada at some point).