Creative nonfiction essay
Creative Non-fiction : here I will post a draft of my creative non-fiction essay
SUPERVISOR FOR A DAY
Stretched on my stomach on the bed, I could hardly breathe. My nose oozed slimy mucous onto my pillow. My forehead seemed to be collapsing onto my eyebrows trying to avoid the pain of someone picking inside my head with a needle. Burying my head into the pillow did nothing to relieve me. My brown comforter surrounded my entire body, even my head, trying to warm me. I continued to shiver. “What have you done to me, Baby Girl? I flew all the way to Seattle to spend two weeks taking care of you. This is how you repay me???!!!!” no answer. “You were certainly generous to share all your bodily fluids with me. Now what am I supposed to do?” No answer. “Yesterday I dragged myself to work, but I can’t imagine doing that again today. Do you know hard it is to bend over to make a bed or disinfect and scrub a bathroom when your head is exploding? How about having to tramp back and forth to get clean towels for each room when your body has no strength or energy? The trash cans nauseated me. Do you even care?” No answer. “You don’t know yet how hard life can be. Because of you, you cute little angel, I have missed two weeks of work. They may fire me if I call in sick today. Tu m’as mis dans une situation desperable!” No matter. I cannot make my body work again today.” No answer. Rolling over in my bed, I sat up and grabbed my phone. I tapped in the number for my boss, Jasmine. No answer. I left a voice mail. “ Jasmine, this is Jeannette. I am really feeling terrible right now. I wonder if I can call off work today.” I couldn’t decide what to do. Should I just go to work and let them see how sick I am? I needed to hear to from Jasmine. I tapped her name in my phone. No answer. But as soon as I clicked off, I received a text message from her. “Jeannette, you know that you just took a vacation and you cannot be missing another day of work. I understand that you are sick, but I still need you to come to work. Since I am not coming in today, you can be a supervisor instead of a cleaner. There are instructions on my desk for you.” “Okay. I will do that, but I still feel that I should be able to take the day off. “ Even though Jasmine was trying to help me, I was annoyed.” About an hour later, after a noisy bus ride, mostly noisy because I was blowing my nose the whole way, I arrived at the Marriott. I was in a terrible mood, feeling very sorry for myself. Banging open my locker, I took my black polyester uniform from the hanger and went to the bathroom to change. When I looked in the mirror, I saw my puffy eyes. “Poor me,” I thought. I stamped to Jasmine’s office and found my instructions. “What?? 70 rooms??” Wearily, I climbed to the third floor and began my duties. First, I checked the housekeeper’s board to see which rooms had already been cleaned and which rooms are still occupied. Then, I spent my day going up and down the steps making sure the rooms had been properly done. Gradually, I realized that I could take my time and relax. “Thank you, Jasmine.” One of the rooms had a late check-out. Sometimes this happens when there has been a wedding or a guest has a late flight. At 1:30, when the room was supposed to be vacant, I went to make sure the guests had left so that I could inform the housekeeper that the room was ready to be cleaned. “Oh, I am sorry, sir,” I said to the young man who was just leaving the room. “Don’t worry. I am on my way,” he replied quickly. “I just want to make sure that I can talk to a supervisor.” “Uh, oh.” I thought. “Was there a problem?” “I left a note on the desk,” he continued and walked toward the elevator carrying his small bag. I thought he had probably already loaded his care with the rest of his luggage. I entered the room and saw the note on the desk. When I read the note, I was surprised. "Dear Supervisor, Do you know what the fuck happened last night? I spent $1,000,000 on that wedding last night and here is all that I have left. There is beer in the refrigerator for you and a small champagne. I’m sorry.” I looked at the few coins on the desk. $1,000,000????? I couldn’t believe that, but it’s what he said. I scooped up the coins and opened the small refrigerator. Many kinds of beer, both bottles and cans, filled the shelves. “What am I going to do with all that beer?” I wondered. “I don’t even like beer.” But I knew some people who did, so I gathered the bottles and cans and carefully placed them in a laundry bag and carried them downstairs. The bag was so full that the beer containers did not even make a sound. I locked the beer in my locker for later and went upstairs to finish my work. My mood improved as the day went along even though I still felt sick. When I was ready to leave, a co-worker offered me a ride. That solved the problem of riding the bus with all that beer. I decided to be generous. Suddenly, I was rich. I gave three bottles to the houseman and seven bottles to my chauffeur. The rest I took home to give to friends. When I got home, I looked at my messy bed and thought how good it would feel to get back into it. I realized supervisor for a day I had made it through the day and that meant that I had a full days’ pay, a good work record, and even a small reward. I had not died at work as I was sure I would. Being a supervisor had actually been beneficial to me. Thank you, Jasmine. JEANNETTE DIAN NODJI ENGLISH COMPOSITION 1 Prof: SABATINO MANGINI Essay #1: Creative Nonfiction (one-Month Memoir) Revised SUPERVISOR FOR A DAY Stretched on my stomach on the bed, I could hardly breathe. My nose oozed slimy mucous onto my pillow. My forehead seemed to be collapsing onto my eyebrows trying to avoid the pain of someone picking inside my head with a needle. Burying my head into the pillow did nothing to relieve me. My brown comforter surrounded my entire body, even my head, trying to warm me. I continued to shiver. I got a cold from my aunt’s baby that I went to Seattle to babysit. “What have you done to me, Baby Girl? I flew all the way to Seattle to spend two weeks taking care of you. This is how you repay me???!!!!” No answer. “You were certainly generous to share all your bodily fluids with me. Now what am I supposed to do?” No answer. Yesterday I dragged myself to work, but I can’t imagine doing that again today. Do you know how hard it is to bend over making a bed or disinfect and scrub a bathroom when your head is exploding? How about having to tramp back and forth to get clean towels for each room when your body has no strength or energy? The trash cans nauseated me. Do you even care? No answer. You don’t know yet how hard life can be. Because of you, you cute little angel, I have missed two weeks of work. They may fire me if I call in sick today. Tu m’as mis dans une situation desperable! No matter. I cannot make my body work again today. No answer. Rolling over in my bed, I sat up and grabbed my phone. I tapped in the number for my boss, Jasmine. No answer. I left a voice mail. Jasmine, this is Jeannette. I am really feeling terrible right now. I wonder if I can call off work today. I couldn’t decide what to do. Should I just go to work and let them see how sick I am? I needed to hear to from Jasmine. I tapped her name in my phone. No answer. But as soon as I clicked off, I received a text message from her. “Jeannette, you know that you just took a vacation and you cannot be missing another day of work. I understand that you are sick, but I still need you to come to work. Since I am not coming in today, you can be a supervisor instead of a cleaner. There are instructions on my desk for you.” “Okay. I will do that, but I still feel that I should be able to take the day off. “ Even though Jasmine was trying to help me, I was annoyed.” About an hour later, after a noisy bus ride, mostly noisy because I was blowing my nose the whole way, I arrived at the Marriott. I was in a terrible mood, feeling very sorry for myself. Banging open my locker, I took my black polyester uniform from the hanger and went to the bathroom to change. When I looked in the mirror, I saw my puffy eyes. “Poor me,” I thought. I stamped to Jasmine’s office and found my instructions. “What?? 70 rooms??” Wearily, I climbed to the third floor and began my duties. First, I checked the housekeeper’s board to see which rooms had already been cleaned and which rooms are still occupied. Then, I spent my day going up and down the steps making sure the rooms had been properly done. Gradually, I realized that I could take my time and relax. “Thank you, Jasmine.” One of the rooms had a late check-out. Sometimes this happens when there has been a wedding or a guest has a late flight. At 1:30, when the room was supposed to be vacant, I went to make sure the guests had left so that I could inform the housekeeper that the room was ready to be cleaned. Oh, I am sorry, sir, I said to the young man who was just leaving the room. “Don’t worry. I am on my way,” he replied quickly. “I just want to make sure that I can talk to a supervisor.” Uh, oh. I thought. Was there a problem? “I left a note on the desk,” he continued and walked toward the elevator carrying his small bag. I thought he had probably already loaded his car with the rest of his luggage. I entered the room and saw the note on the desk. When I read the note, I was surprised. “Dear Supervisor, Do you know what the fuck happened last night? I spent $1,000,000 on that wedding last night and here is all that I have left. There is beer in the refrigerator for you and small champagne. I’m sorry.” I looked at the few coins on the desk. $1,000,000????? I couldn’t believe that, but it’s what he said. I scooped up the coins and opened the small refrigerator. Many kinds of beer, both bottles and cans, filled the shelves. “What am I going to do with all that beer?” I wondered. “I don’t even like beer.” But I knew some people who did, so I gathered the bottles and cans and carefully placed them in a laundry bag and carried them downstairs. The bag was so full that the beer containers did not even make a sound. I locked the beer in my locker for later and went upstairs to finish my work. My mood improved as the day went along even though I still felt sick. When I was ready to leave, a co-worker offered me a ride. That solved the problem of riding the bus with all that beer. I decided to be generous. Suddenly, I was rich. I gave three bottles to the houseman and seven bottles to my chauffeur. The rest I took home to give to friends. When I got home, I looked at my messy bed, crumpled pillows, tissue, socks and pajamas all over on the bed and thought how complicated life is that I cannot take care of myself but I tried hard to take care of others because this is a source of revenue for my survive. Although, I realized that I had made it through the day and that meant that I had a full days’ pay, a good work record, and even a small reward. I had not died at work as I was sure I would. Being a supervisor had actually been beneficial to me. Thank you, Jasmine. |
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