I CAN COUNT!

There is a tedious task that needs to be completed at the end of each work day at the pawn shop, and that task is appropriately called "Counting Jewelry."

As for the logistics of this task, the title pretty much explains it all. Every night, someone is assigned to count all of the jewelry in the various jewelry cases. There is a sheet on which one records the counts, breaking the cases down into numbers of rings, bracelets, necklaces, earrings, pendants, and watches, the purpose being to act as safeguard against accidental loss and purposeful theft of jewelry. Even though I am a very honest person and would never be sloppy or lazy at work, let alone steal anything, counting jewelry makes me somewhat nervous.

I have a very guilty conscious, and whenever someone says that they need to talk to me, my first reaction is to think that I am in trouble. I can't help it. The rendezvous may be innocent, but I instantly begin to wrack my brain for if I have done anything offensive, mean, or wrong. Some would go so far as to call me paranoid. Whatever. Maybe I am, or maybe I just don't like the idea of screwing something up and then getting in trouble for it--miscounting rings, for example, which could lead someone to think I have been stealing. There is also the fact that I don't like doing things incorrectly. Moral of the story: paranoia and slight-OCD make counting jewelry a somewhat stressful chore. There is a lot of money in those jewelry cases and I don't want anyone to have any cause to believe I have been lazy or shady.

Anyway, I was assigned to count jewelry tonight. I don't get terribly nervous about it anymore because I've done it several times by now and am more familiar with the items that are in the cases. But after I counted and then my boss wanted to count everything on her own, I began to feel a little anxiety. My first reaction was that I had been counting jewelry wrong for weeks and that she was checking my counts in order to reprimand me and then initiate a process that would eventually lead to my dismissal because I was not viewed as a valuable or trustworthy employee. But after the first small panic attack, I calmed down a little. I also thought that maybe it was just a normal thing for her to recount jewelry every now and again just to make sure things are being done correctly.

After she counted the jewelry, she and I compared our numbers--we only matched on two of the six. What a joy that was to behold! What a pleasant sensation I hope to experience again and again! She and I began to recount everything, but this time we did it together. As it turns out, I was dead on other than for counting a wedding set as one ring instead of two because the solitaire and band fit together so well that they looked like a single ring (which was understandably confusing and not held against whatsoever). Other than that, it turned out that I had been correct on the other counts and that she had been the one who had made the mistakes while counting. I felt very happy about this, partially because it made me feel good to personally know that I had been doing my job correctly, but also because it felt good to have my boss see that I had been doing my job correctly. I sometimes think she doesn't think too highly of me, and perhaps this will change her mind. Or maybe it will make her resent me even more. Either way, I am pleased to inform you all that I CAN COUNT! I can count rings and necklaces! And earrings, too!