I haven’t done a whole lot lately. Just kind of existed. I had a j-o-b interview and it went horrible. Crash and burn would be my exact words. The guy just flat out didn’t like me. I was as honest as possible. I thought that counted for something, but he was still a wanna-be corporate zombie. Here’s the basic conversation that went on.
W-B CZ: Why do you want to work at NAME OF COMPANY HERE?
Me: Because it’s really close to my house & I could get here everyday on time.
W-B CZ: Are you a “people person”?
Me: I’d like to think so…
W-B CZ: Well the customer is the most important thing here at NAME OF COMPANY HERE so it’s important we hire people who can tolerate customers and treat them with respect.
Me: I think I could do that.
W-B CZ: Could you come in at 6 am instead of 8 am?
Me: No. My husband doesn’t get off work until 7 am and there would be no one to watch my daughter.
W-B CZ: Oh. Most people are just lazy. So where does your husband work?
Me: Kenco. He works 3rd shift obviously.
W-B CZ: Oh my dad works there. What’s your husbands name?
Me: Joe…
W-B CZ: (writes down my husbands name & his shift). Well if you’re not a people person you should go work at Kenco. They don’t have to deal with people hardy ever and if you can’t deal then you should definitely be there. Why don’t you try working at Kenco?
Me: Umm. Because I’m 100lbs of nothing except skin & bone and I can’t even drive a car let alone a clamp lift.
W-B CZ: Do you shop here? Some people come apply here, but shop at Fareway across the street.
Me: …uh yeah I shop here. Why would I go an extra 100 ft just to carry groceries another 3 blocks back to my house.
W-B CZ: Well I guess you wouldn’t. Well thanks if we don’t call you within a month just apply again…
Me: …bye.
Yeah. I felt like I was being interviewed for some blood sucking, ass kissing cult. It was horrible to that last bit. The crazed look on the guys face just made me nervous. And he kept bringing up where my husband works waaayyy to much for my comfort. He also kept saying that if “I worked hard enough I could get to where he is and be accomplished!” Yeah, being the manager of a grocery store at almost 30 is a HUGE accomplishment. WOAH! Dream big. (had to do it) I’m going to try Subway later on this week because they like me down there. It may be just because I buy from them a lot and eat like a morbidly obese woman who shouldn’t even be able to walk, but it’s worth a shot regardless.
Lately everything has been peachy effin’ keen. Now a normal person looks at a situation that’s going well and says to themselves “Gee whiz, this is great. I love my life.” I, on the other hand, can’t seem to sit back and enjoy the calm before the storm. Not being a “normal” person I often find myself thinking “Oh frack, everything going great. What will happen to fuck it up this time!?“. It’s just who I am. I think I was just born a “half empty” type of girl.
It bugs the ever-loving crap out of me when I can look at Joe and feel trust and happiness. When I can look around at my life and be content. When my friend(s) are right there when I need them or even wanting to talk to me. When everything has been stable for awhile I get a tad bit freaked the frack out. I will always be the girl who changes herself every few months. The girl who wants to be able to walk into any place and get attention (no matter if it’s good or bad). And maybe sometimes life would be easier if I wasn’t who I am, but imagine how fucking boring it would be? I would be just another stupid, blissfully ignorant, asshole walking down the street instead of that weird girl with the offensive t-shirt, horrible dye job, and cat ear hat. Again I’ve veered off the main topic I’ve been trying to get to…
The feelings most women crave to get turned on has murder my sex drive and cause a dry spell in my writing. I’ve haven’t wanted to get laid in over a week and haven’t blogged in 3 days. Way too fracking long on both.
My solution to both of these problems is: getting a job. The only available place in town is a gas station. Grave yard shift (a.k.a. the time of night when most gas stations get robbed) on weekends. Sounds interesting enough. I’d get the hell out of this cage and maybe appreciate the good times more if I have a crappy job where I deal with the “children of the night”. It’s either that or I’ll crawl up a clock tower and start sniping people. To be honest I think getting a job is the more sane choice, but knowing how my logic works I could be wrong. I’m not a gun person anyways so looks like I’ll give employment a try.
batz. bat girl. frankie. nerdy & proud. gamer girl. mom. batman obsessed. horror lover. serial killer enthusiast. huge fan of spell check, cookie dough ice cream w/ butterscotch syrup & round rainbow sprinkles, & thunderstorms. nervous & paranoid. dislikes load noises, liars, & brightly lit places.
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