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October 19, 2005
Minimum Waged War
I think I'm going to slit my throat.
You remember those college advisors who back at freshman orientation recommended that you not take more than fifteen hours worth of classes or work more than twenty hours a week?
Well, they were right.
I can't believe I've gotten myself into this mess. I have hardly any time to think much less do work and deal with the snotty bisnotches at Job #3. The Christmas season is rolling in (Goddamn, already?), and Frances at Job #1 and Skinny Bitch at Job #3 are asking for more hours. I'd be more than happy to spend the rest of my time at Job #1 where the pay is higher, the customers are generally more intelligent and pleasant, and the seniority and respect of other employees. Unfortunately, I have to balance my working hours so that Skinny Bitch is happy having me work just about every flipping weekend from November through New Year's. And Skinny Bitch is, in every sense of the word, a bitch. She's got this cold way about her, I can't ever figure out her motives for what she says and does. I spend more time obeying stupid orders from her and Fat Control Freak Bitch than I do actually helping customers, which is ridiculous. And instead of asking me to work on important tasks, they both tell me to focus on smaller projects so that they don't feel the need to babysit me.
Goddamn retail.
I secretly have plans to quit Job #3 as soon as the holiday season ends. The only sucky thing about that is losing the awesome store discount. I mean, come June, I'm going to have an apartment to fill with furniture, and I sure can't afford all of that stuff at regular retail prices. I'll just have to stock up with all the money I'll make during the next few months and buy a bunch of stuff through the catalog and the outlets. Because y'know, if I can get me a five-seat leather couch for $200 with that employee discount, I'll have a leg up from all the other post-college grads who are reclining on metal folding chairs. Just a thought.
posted at 6:05 p.m.
