The Wisdom in Spam

Job Application.jpgI didn’t know what I was going to write about today; it’s been a shit day, and I pretty much decided that I’m not going back to work because fuck that place and those people. Pretty much because I haven’t quit or found a job in years, and the prospect of having to hardcore get down to it freaks me out quite a bit. I’ve just been dilly-dallying for the past month, putting in applications here and there.

Full disclosure: I got and quit my job at Domino’s in 2013, but I’m an old hand at getting and quitting jobs at Domino’s. That’s no big deal. Anyway. 

Then I think about when I got this job, and how badly I panicked when it was time to go to my interview, and even worse when it was my first day. I’m scared a lot, and when I say a lot, I mean a freaking lot, and it isn’t safe to try new things and new experiences, especially all by myself. It isn’t safe at all. It’s big and scary and I would rather be four years old and facing monsters under my bed in the dark. Without a blanket to hide under. Dangling my feet over the edge of the bed.

But it’s not fair to myself to keep going to work at a place that makes me so miserable I ugly cry in public. And in private. Really, whenever the urge strikes. I’ve ugly cried more this year already than I did last year, and I had such a bad time with side effects from Topamax last year I ended up skipping my 20th reunion Homecoming game.

So today I posted a status on Facebook: so this is probably gonna be my last day here. Who’s hiring? Within minutes, a friend of mine posted that his part-time job was hiring. At my old mall! At my happy place! I told him I’d apply when I got home tonight, and he said he’d told his boss. Super important bonus: they sell body jewelry, so I won’t have to hide my piercings. So wish me luck on this one, y’all. Thanks fam.

When I got home tonight I changed my clothes and applied for that job. And it’s funny: I wouldn’t give my youngest brother my email a few weeks ago when he called our mom and said he needed it for a job application, because who ever heard of an employer needing a reference’s email address? Well, now I have. Whatever, I still don’t believe my brother. He also said he needed our parents’ birthdates for his application. And really, come on. Know your own parents’ birthdays, jeez.

So I texted my old assistant manager for his email, and I texted another friend to make sure I could use him as a reference. I’m reasonably certain that I’ve asked him that before, and I knew he’d agree, but it’s just good manners to ask, right? Plus I was simply hoping to hear back from him because he’s had a pretty shit time of it lately.

I did hear back, and he did agree, and when he asked what was going on, I told him I want to cry every time I even think about work and I can’t do this shit anymore. Like I don’t plan on going back and I’m crying now because fuck them so much. That sounds like TMI now, but if you’re not going to be honest with your friends, what’s the point of having them, right?

So of course he confirmed that the shit is fucked and gave me some directions for job hunting. And his wife just got a new job herself, and she said she’ll keep an eye out for me, too. Sometimes I think maybe I have better friends than I deserve. But  then I remember that I’m not my job, and I’m a decent person, so there’s that.

And then I went to my dashboard to read my spam comments. Yes, it was all spam, but one of them struck a nerve.

It is the best time to make a few plans for the long run and it’s time to be happy.
I have read this publish and if I may I wish to counsel you few fascinating things
or advice. Perhaps you can write subsequent articles referring to this article.
I wish to read even more issues about it!

Okay, maybe not that last bit, but the first sentence, for real though. Thanks, spam.

And then my husband texted me that he’s bringing me home a weird chair, and all’s right with the world. I’ll show you pics tomorrow. I hope it’s weird af.


One More


No Mosquitos

We went hiking this morning, and it was quite lovely. 


Three Things

  • Okay, so I’m definitely working at the other store next weekend. Hopefully this means that my transfer is approved and not still pending.
  • Our last day was changed from today to next Tuesday, which sucks because that’s when the district manager will be here “helping”. But whatevs.
  • I think I might go to trade school to be a machinist.

Lessons Learned and Thoughts Thinked

This morning I bought a new shirt at the dollar store so I’d have another short sleeved shirt to wear to work, since it’s winter and I will have absolutely no need for a jacket for the next ten days at least. Plus, it gets warm doing all that engraving at the speed of light, y’all.

I didn’t expect this severe of an outcome.

The first few hours I was at work, I watched my hands in amazement and wonder, trying my damnedest to figure out what on earth was rubbing off on me that had never done that before.

Oh. It’s my new shirt. Screw it, nothing I can do until I get home.

I got home and took a shower and scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed. And I’m still a little grey.

***

But isn’t that a beautiful thing? My life is chock full of these gloriously rich tidbits of real life, and so is everyone else’s. That blows my mind.The hundreds and thousands of strangers that I see every day are living the same vida loca that all of us are.

Anyway, wash new clothes before you wear them, especially when they only cost a few bucks.


Good News, Everyone

My adrenal tumor is not producing cortisol, so I’ll have another scan in six months to check on its size, but it’s basically nothing to worry about. 

Unfortunately, I do have a serious Vitamin D deficiency and low calcium and phosphorus levels. 

But that deficiency is what caused me to have a giant calcium kidney stone in March, which caused me to have a CT scan, in which they found the tumor, which got me referred to an endocrinologist who found the deficiency. So it all worked out. 

And I’ve lowered my A1c by .3 in the past two and a half months, which I am quite proud of.