Hate To Love You

Chapter 1: Sandra

I’m working for so many hours that I fall asleep the minute my head hits the pillow. Most nights, I get less than five hours of sleep. It’s usually closer to two. 

I work day in and day out to support my family. I love them and I want to be there for them. They need me. 

I don’t have much in the way of nutrition these days. I’m too burnt out to cook so I usually just buy myself a happy meal from McDonalds. I sigh as I realize that my shirt is clinging to my spine, soaked in sweat. 

It’s been a day from Hell. 

My eyelids are drooping and my palms are sweaty. I am working day in and day out to support my family. I am even working overtime as much as any human can possibly manage to. 

I sigh. I can finally inhale some fresh air, away from all of the customers breathing down my neck every hour of the day. Today, I remember having to practice maintaining a professional, calm, and caring tone with an old lady who thought that she could sell her recycling bins for $1000 each. 

“I want to advertise this recycling bin.” 

“Great. You can certainly sell it for about $50. You can make some good money that way, if you have enough customers.” 

“Well,” She scoffed, “A recycling bin is worth a lot more than a meager $50 if you ask me. I’m helping people save the trees. That's priceless work.” 

This woman must not understand that no one will buy her product for that much money…

I refrained from rolling my eyes and took a deep breath in the most subtle way possible. 

“Yes, ma’am. I understand that you are doing valuable work and I commend you for that. However, I believe that you will have more customers if you sell each recycling bin for $50.”

“Fine,” She answered with pursed lips.

I waited until she left and then I sighed, rubbing my temples.

Some clients were such a headache. 

Then, of course, there is Robert. Robert visits frequently. He is always handing out checks to people from the Bank of God, whatever that is. I’m pretty sure he’s made it up in his head. 

Jeanina is a loyal client, but she is also a bit entitled. She has a fancy job as a lawyer for environmental laws. She is always nitpicking about one thing or another. Apparently, we shouldn’t have  toilet paper in her opinion because it is a waste of trees: one of earth’s most precious resources. 

Since I listen as patiently as I can muster, she always comes to me with these issues. 

“Sandra, I can’t believe you’re still using toilet paper instead of bidets. I can’t believe it.”

I refrain from rolling my eyes and pretend that I care as much as she does. 

You’re doing this for your family, Sandra. Remember that. Whatever it is, you can get through this for your family. You will get through this. Don’t lose your temper. Be professional. Whatever you do, just be professional. 

“I recall telling you about twenty times,” Jeanina shouted, “I thought you were going to tell management.”

“Yes I did, but, currently, we have other priorities.” 

Her eyes are beady, her fists clenched, her jaw tight. She inhales sharply. 

“What on earth is more of a priority than saving the trees? Climate change could kill us all. Did you hear me? It could kill us all and what do you do? You kill more trees. Ridiculous! I don’t know if I can support this institution any longer. Your lack of investment in preserving our natural resources is extremely disappointing. I must say.” 

“Yes, ma’am. I apologize for the inconvenience,” I answer, groaning internally. 

She groans as if someone has just told her the world is ending in two days and walks away. 

She’ll be back next week. 

I greet the next client politely, stuffing down my feelings to get through the day and trying not to focus on how much my heels are digging into my ankles. 

You have to look professional, Sandra. You have to look professional. 

***

 I’m on my break. 

Finally. I can take a breather from the rat race. I swear people I have no respect for sales agents these days. If they had to spend a day in my shoes, I bet they would quit. They are so entitled. 

I sigh, realizing that my negative thoughts are not productive. I have to go back to work soon and I better have a good attitude. I’m getting paid, after all. 

My family will really appreciate it. I’ll do anything for them. They’re my world. 

Get it together, Sandra. Get it together. You have a job. 

That’s more than a lot of people can say these days. You have a job and you’re good at your job and you’re making money. That’s what matters. 

That’s what counts. You go in there and you be the best you can be. You be as professional as possible no matter how they act. 

You can do this. Just get through today, Sandra. Just get through today. 

This is my one moment of peace and quiet. I take a deep breath and look at the beautiful blue sky, the sun beaming down on my shoulders. 

It’s so nice to spend a bit of time outdoors. I love seeing the sky, feeling the sun on my back. 

I rarely get to spend any time outdoors these days. I just work day in and day out. I don’t have much time to spend with friends. I’ve got to pay the bills. 

I’ve got to put food on the table. I’ve got to make sure that we have enough water. That is all I do these days. 

Everything else falls by the wayside. Sometimes, when I get home, I am too tired to even brush my teeth. I sigh, shaking my head. 

The bags under my eyes are massive. I hope I can afford to get at least a few more hours of sleep soon. 

I look down at my poor feet. Today, early this morning, I got up and got dressed and then I walked to work. I have to choose between buying groceries and paying for gas, so naturally, I choose the former. 

Parking costs a pretty penny, so I walk to work whenever I can, but it has been incredibly hot lately. I’m so sweaty. 

I had to wash my armpits with a paper towel this morning, but at least I’ll be able to put food on the table now. I have to watch every penny, I swear. I will work as hard as I need to to put food on the table. 

I was raised to have a very strong work ethic. I’m wearing three-inch heels today in an attempt to look simultaneously sexy and professional, but my feet are killing me. 

I am so glad that I can relax before my next sales pitch. 

A Lamborghini passes by me suddenly. It races through the puddle of water and splatters mud all over my professional attire. 

Great! I’m about to go on a sales pitch and now I look like a piece of trash.

“Pay attention to the road, moron!”

I shout as I run after the car. I almost throw my shoes at the vehicle, but I think better of it. 

I’ll have to keep them on for my sales pitch…

I look down at my top and I groan. It’s filthy. 

Mud is splattered everywhere. I look so unprofessional. 

There’s no way I can look like this! Fuck that driver. He doesn’t even care about anybody else’s day. 

He just goes around driving his fancy Lamborghini without a care in the world…I guess I’ll just have to greet my client like this…I’ll make a great impression that way…but I have to do my job no matter what. 

I have to make money. I have to support my family. We need to eat. I can’t just back out of the pitch. I just wish some people had some common courtesy…

I arrive at Clean and Green Enterprises with a filthy top and dirt all over my face. I see the client arriving. I cannot stop thinking about that careless driver. 

So entitled, with his fancy Lamborghini. Does he think he’s the king of the world or something? He didn’t even look back. 

I can’t believe him. I wonder if he’s like this towards all women or just towards black women.

Bastard.