I work the afternoon shifts as a part-time carer in a nursing home. While I love my job and my residents, prepping these little delights is my favourite time of the evening.
Some of the other girls at work give me shit for being so “anal” about arranging these little packets. There is no real “rule” as to how it has to be arranged. As long as there’s enough for each table. But no, not with me. They all have to face a certain way and grouped into the same category.
Work mates would tease me and say I’ve got OCD. They would warn the new girls not to touch those trays…
“Or Sharon will kill you”.
Am I really that anal retentive?
Or. It could be because the rest of my day is UTTER CHAOS.
It doesn’t matter how many times I clean up the kids toy room. It gets messed up within minutes of them waking up. Constant piles of washing, cooking, cleaning. I do a load of washing everyday, sometimes even two. (Urgh!! Why is the laundry basket always so full???)
When I am getting these breakfast trays ready, I’m in my own world. Most of my residents are already tucked into bed asleep. There’s soft music from the 50s or 60s playing in the background. Perfectly arranged jams, butters and vegemite.
It’s therapeutic. No children to tip the trays out. No children messing it up. It looks beautiful. Neat. Aaaahhhh. I step back and admire my work. I smile.
There is order in my life. Even if it’s only for 5 minutes.