Dear Diary,

It happened again. Six times. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I just don’t know. I try and try and try and try, but no matter what I do I just can’t wrap a damn burrito.

I remember the days before I started working Qdoba. Everybody told me the people at Qdoba couldn’t wrap burritos, but I was determined it wouldn’t happen to me. I spent all day and night sitting up in my room, just wrapping whatever I could with toilet paper in the shape of a burrito. By the night before my first day, I could wrap a burrito in my sleep. I just knew I wouldn’t mess up wrapping burritos, it couldn’t be me.

But that first day, when I came in grinning from ear to ear, I had this peculiar feeling. I don’t know what it was, but suddenly something I can’t explain was just drained out of me.

My first burrito came, and despite all the training I had done, I just couldn’t wrap it. A fluke, I was just nervous obviously. But when the second came, and the third and fourth, I knew the curse of Qdoba had caught me too.

I still have good days and bad days. Today was a bad day. I remember the order exactly: the monster got extra meat AND peppers. It’s like he knew what it would do to me. I kept my cool though, hoping maybe this once I could actually wrap a damn burrito. I folded the tortilla over the ingredients, no problems so far. But, when I went to fall over the end, and the ingredients squeezed out in every which way. I winced at my failure, but not noticeably. The guy was watching though, I knew I couldn’t mess up again.

I folded the edges in a second time, holding the ingredients down. But just when I thought I was in the clear a tear formed in the tortilla, exposing the failure of my hard work. Quivering in fear now, I grabbed another tortilla and transferred the ingredients over. I knew all the queso and guac had been lost in the transfer- he knew it too- but I tried again. Again the ingredients started to squeeze out, again rips started to form. But the guy who ordered was looking at his phone, so I took the opportunity to just wrap the foil over my failed burrito, hiding the atrocity I had just committed for at least a little while.

I came to this job so full of hope, so confident. But the curse of Qdoba spares no one. It got me, just like it will everybody else who tries to wrap a burrito. One day I’ll break free of this curse, I have to.

I have to break the curse, before it breaks me.