Now the big question. What should I write about? My boyfriend, Sully, thinks I'm funny and interesting so his advice was to "just be yourself in writing!" Very helpful, Mr middle school guidance counselor. I suppose I'll just ramble about my not so interesting life until something somewhat interesting emerges.
I put in my two weeks notice today at one of my two jobs. I work at a Restaurant and a Retail Store... and it's almost Christmas.... and I'm in charge of putting out new stock at Retail Store... and waiting tables sucks in general...so my life is pretty stressful at the moment. Stressful is the wrong word. More like "i always need a strong drink and a cigarette and I randomly burst into tears when Sully asks me what I'd like for dinner because I get up early every day and getting up early is the most horrible, awful, no good, terrible torture known to man so I don't like going to work." That pretty much covers it. I honestly haven't had a day off in months. No, seriously. I go to work every. single. day. And I'm not an old person with a real life and financial responsibilities and debt and stuff, no no. I'm just a 20 something chick in a cheap apartment with a boyfriend who makes good money. No kids, just two cats. So WHY am I working myself to death? Good question! Let's look back about 8 or 9 lines... "I put in my two weeks notice today at one of my two jobs." Yay!!! It would seem I've finally grown a brain and decided that this is all pointless. Well done, brain!
Honestly, I was hoping for more of a scene over my resignation from Retail Store. Desperate pleas for me to stay, confessions of admiration, promises for a raise and a promotion... nope. Boss Lady just shrugged and said "k." How disappointing. Not that I was a particularly good employee to begin with. I never stole merchandise or money or beat a customer to death or locked people out of the store near closing time or anything (although I definitely thought about all of the above...) but I wasn't incredibly concerned with the general wellbeing of my place of work. Or my coworkers. Or the customers.
There is nothing more annoying than customers. They always need something and the expect you to help them just because you work there. Here's a perfect example of why I hate customers. I had to change a lightbulb at Retail Store today, which required me to get up on a very tall, very old ladder. Now let me preface this by telling you that I'm one of the clumsiest people on the planet, and I hate heights. So there I am, teetering at the top of this stupid ladder, terrified out of my mind. I just focused intensely on the stupid lightbulb I had to change, which blinded me temporarily. Next thing I know, some idiotic woman taps me on the ankle. I clutch the ladder for dear life, quite positive that someone is about to pull me down to my most certain death. I very slowly turn to face the ankle toucher. I wish I could have seen my own face at that moment because the woman's expression turned from one of confusion and slight irritation to one of pity.
Ankle toucher: "Honey, do y'all have these shoes in a seven?"
Me (still at the top of a ladder): "Um."
Ankle toucher: "These shoes. Do they come in a seven?"
Me: "The sizes are printed on the outside of the boxes. Did you look for a seven?"
Ankle toucher: "No. I thought you kept them in the back."
Me (still at the top of this huge fucking ladder because ankle toucher is standing at the bottom of the rungs, preventing me from getting to safety): "No. Look for a seven, if it's not there then we don't have it."
I gave her a "what the hell is your problem, go ask someone else, I'm at the top of a huge fucking ladder right now, how much help do you think I can give you?!!?!?!" look, whatever that looks like. She found her shoes and I descended to safety, still mostly blinded.
Moral of the story? Customers are dumb and they try to kill me on a daily basis.
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