Working for my money...

I looked back through my older posts here, and the majority of them have something to do with with my agita over being unemployed. Thankfully, I was able to avoid the siren call of crackwhoredom to pay my bills.

I got a job. Thank Jeebus. But for every silver lining, there's an ugly gray cloud-- I'm basically what amounts to a fairly well-paid gas station attendant. More often than not there are only 2 people working at a time-- with one in the back room or getting things done with paperwork. Leaving one person, usually me, at the front to watch the gas pumps, keep the coffee coming, run both registers and that infernal Lotto machine, and serve ice cream. It usually works out well. People, for the most part, are either polite or recognize that being a dick to whoever is behind the counter won't make things better.

But sometimes... it's chaos and I still wish for a staid, comfy cubie job. Something ripped straight from Office Space. Maybe I could get Milton's old desk in the basement.

But hey, I can pay my bills now. And as a bonus, everyone I work with is really cool.

Some days, I am confronted by how stupid people can be. I mean, not just regular everyday stupid, like "where did I put my hat? Oh... it's already on my head..." But truly "my brain cells have melted" stupid.

A few days ago I was at the register and a man came up with two bottle of Gatorade and asked me a question:

"Is this Gatorade lemonade Gatorade or lemonade?"

BZUH?

So I spoke to him as if he were a five year-old and had to literally show him that the nutritional facts on both bottles were identical. I tried to explain that it was just lemonade flavored Gatorade, but he was actually almost arguing with me over it. He'd been sent because someone back home was sick and wanted a drink, and he was confused. But, come on... is Gatorade really something that causes such mental stress?

No really.

I took a catnap before work today and had a dream about David Caruso.

My brain has betrayed me. Why can't I dream about Yul from Survivor, or Johnny Depp? Nooo... I dream that I'm trapped in a car with Horatio Caine. Mind you, it was dark, but he still had his sunglasses on.

He kept calling me "Partner" and told me that I'd need to work with him to figure out what was going on. I woke up when the car door wouldn't open.

So WTF, brain, WTF.

No more dreams of the red-headed, be-sunglassed, over-emotive, scenery-eating devil please!

Are there cobwebs in the internet?

Wow.


I actually kind of forgot this existed. Weird.

Visa...

Dear Visa,

Fuck you. Fuck the gigantic inflated APR you've stuck to me, despite the fact that I pay you bloodsucking bastards every month and have paid my card off twice. I am no longer a college student, haven't been for two years, so perhaps you could stop bleeding me dry like you did for those four and a half years of my undergraduate studies. I understand that you make major money off of people's inability to pay off their card every month, but EXCUSE ME, it would just be nice to see my balance go DOWN MORE for once. Happy Fucking Holidays to you. I hope Santa takes a crap down your office chimney this year.

Sincerely,
Bitter Cardholder


Ok... I'm done. Just needed to vent a little.

5 Odd Facts About Me

1. My toenails are always painted, sometimes with more than one color on each foot. But I rarely paint my fingernails.

2. I don't like any kind of salad dressing, and don't eat ketchup. I eat mustard on everything from fries to eggs.

3. I sleep under 3 heavy blankets, but leave my fan on.

4. I hate it when pieces of my hair fly all over the place, since it makes my hair look frizzy. I keep barettes with me.

5. I don't use alarm clocks. I always end up waking up before they go off because I can't stand being woken up by a loud alarm.

Look, it's me.

I discovered this yesterday-- create your own superhero.



Here's me in the morning. I wish there were other body types to choose from, but this was fun... a massive time-waster, but still fun.

"There's an ex-con in the bathroom and he won't come out."

I called my dad to let him know that I got the earphones for my brother, so he wouldn't buy them too. My stepmom picked up, and was immediately far more cheerful than she normally is on the phone. She passed the phone to dad, who says "Hey! We're having a party!" I love my dad, he doesn't drink much anymore-- but he's still not too old to party with his buddies. I told him to call me tomorrow when the Advil kicks in.

One of the last times they had a party there where they invited friends, it became a crazy story. Some co-worker of my stepmom brought an ex-con as her date. Said Con decided to get into a beer-fueled, screaming fistfight with my step-uncle about Red Sox V. Yankees. My step-uncle was pushed into a bedroom to chill out, and Con was shoved into the bathroom. My dad opened the door to tell him he had to leave, and Con flipped out and sucker punched my dad. After that he punched a hole in the bathroom door and shut himself in again. Meanwhile my younger brother is trying to help out, and my dog bit someone in the chaos. Not badly, but she was just protecting my dad. Dad calls the cops. Sheriff shows up to help out, and they explain to Con that either he leaves of his own volition, or he is forcibly removed and arrested-- he leaves. My uncle was still screaming and pissed off-- so my stepmom took him out with a karate shot to the throat, turns out she learned how to do that at work. He's no longer welcome in dad's home.

Everyone was fine, but it's such a small town that anyone with a police radio (read: 75% of the population) knew about what happened. Very funny stuff.

This time, however, I only heard the Chicken Dance playing in the background. I'm not sure if that scares me more or less than the mental image of a pair of grown adult men fighting over baseball.

Merry F'n Christmas

I did it. I started and finished my Christmas shopping in one day. I'm broke now.

I woke up at 8, and proceeded to stumble around like a caffeine-deprived zombie for 2 hours (I wake up notoriously slow,) by 10 my mom, her boyfriend and I set out for Target. Ipod-applicable earphones for my brother, stainless steel travel coffee mugs for my dad and stepmom, stocking stuffers for my mom and a bunch of little stuff.

50 bucks later...

We went to IHOP for lunch. Or as it is better known, Lewis Black's "health club."

Off to the mall. I make a first stop into the As Seen On TV store. I got a car buffer mit and turtle wax cloths for my dad's car, and 2 of those Owl reading light/magnifying cards. One for mom, one for my grandparents.

35 bucks later...

I went to the the Christmas Tree Shop. Bastion of all that is the Chaos of Christmas. They even had cops in there to regulate the masses. And there were MASSES of people. Unorganized floods of carts, baskets, aisles of assorted crap with treasures, and the elderly-- oh, and babies. Lots of babies. There I was with my unwieldy basket of odds and ends, and two giant boxes. I ended up buying amongst more little things-- a fiber-optic Christmas Village house for my Aunt, a portable back massager chair pad for my dad, a scrapbook kit for my stepmom, a stocking because I thought it was pretty and a hideous computer-printed novelty tie for my dad. Payback for all the tricks he pulled on Christmas with me.

55 bucks later...

I go to Hallmark. I buy two candle tarts. For me.

3 bucks later...

I go to Boscov's, and by a small box of Godiva for my mom, gourmet coffee and cookies, and a giant hatbox to put it in.

23 bucks later...

I go to the calendar store, and pick up a Harry Potter desk calendar and a stuffed lab puppy toy for my mom...and put it in the hatbox. Damn thing was heavy.

28 bucks later...

Back to the Christmas Tree Shop, because I had forgotten wrapping paper, tissue paper and bows.

11 bucks later...

I collapse in the car and wait for my mom to finish.

I'm broke as fuck now, and I have to pick up an application for the local gas station. I'm hoping they hire me and they I don't get mugged walking home.

Tis the Holiday Season, time to repent past financial sins and commit new ones.