Wednesday, September 1st, 2010

radiumgirl: (mcguyver)
Things I did today:
  • Gave Miri a fleabath 
  • Ate a late dinner with Mommy Shut Up
  • Quit my job at the Expensive Department Store

I think I'll be okay at Denny's Donuts. I'm going to finish my shifts for the week at the Expensive Department Store because I'm responsible and considerate and stuff, but I'm done. I decided to quit during a sales meeting this morning. It was like that scene from Glengarry Glen Ross, only with less swearing and more giggling. I mean, the word "fired" didn't come up once.  It wasn't even implied. But there was alot of "do your best for the company" and "we're under our quota and need you all to get those big purchases" and prizes for the highest sales and most opened accounts and I just didn't give a flying fuck. I don't want a pizza party or a gift card to Red Lobster or a gift bag from the cosmetics stand and I realized that I could be the nicest, most wonderful employee in that place, and it wouldn't mean dick if I couldn't sweet talk some newlyweds into buying an espresso machine. 

The way I see it, I saved everyone alot of stress. 

With that said, I do feel bad about quitting, especially since the alternative is the dishwashing gig. I had training for that the past two days and my first real shift is tomorrow. I was bored out of my skull and spent the entirety of my online training sociologically analyzing the videos, which I found to be hilariously sexist, racist, and ageist. My favorite part was the section that talked about how we need to be extra polite to our elderly customers because they are used to the world moving slower and they have trouble communicating because they're old. I seriously lost it. The manager asked if I was okay. I thought going into a hoity-toity holier-than-thou rant about the video would be a bad career choice, so I just said that the videos were "special."

I'm one of two female dishwashers and I'm kinda proud of that. 

I had a minor meltdown after training, the usual "my-life-is-a-cosmic-joke" meltdown that led to tearful phone calls to Owen and Gabe. Owen listened to my rant then calmly told me that he's been listening to me bitch about my current lot for a straight week now, and he's glad to, really, but he's starting to worry and wishes I could be happy again because I tend to make bad decisions when I'm unhappy, like that time with the vodka and the aspirin. 

Owen is totally the adult in this relationship. 

And Gabe, well, Gabe is my unofficial therapist and ex-Adventureland boss. I'm amazed that he hasn't blocked my phone number. He got the "I-am-incompatible-with-the-world" rant. I re-analyzed my decision to quit the Expensive Department Store and came to the conclusion that I must have some sort of defiance disorder because of my compulsive need to "stick it to the man" and oh my god I think I'm having a nervous breakdown. Gabe, who is a disgustingly unflinching optimist, said "You'll be fine. You have a good head on your shoulders. An odd head. But a good one."

"Gabe, I basically quit because I got told to do my job and then I decided I didn't like that job."

"There's nothing wrong with that."

"There's alot wrong with that!"

And we never really reached a definitive answer about the rightness or wrongness of my decision because then it was dinnertime with My-Mother-the-Convict. She had papers she needed me to pass on to my brother about his health insurance. I would have her mail them, but I'd rather she not have my address. It was a quick and dirty dinner.  She wants to make this a weekly thing. I politely declined. And by politely declined, I mean I made up some stuff about being really, really busy (not a total lie) instead of just bugging my eyes out and screaming "fuck no."
"

June 2011

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