I 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.
Four years ago, when I accepted a Liebster Award from Bree, I said that I’d share an article I wrote on London nightclubs for an MTurk. Tonight I was looking through my drafts and found it. If I was lucky, I might have gotten paid a whole quarter for this garbage; I don’t remember.
The biggest challenge in assignments like this is the rules: no you or your, and the list of phrases that you must use in specific places a certain number of times. But I did enjoy the exercise.
I wonder if it’s ever been used–a quick Google search tells me that the first paragraph has been, just four months ago. Interesting.
Let me know if you can struggle through it!
Someone searching for a cocktail bar in London might well be impressed with the variety found in just a few short hours of bar-hopping. Any type of drink a person might desire may be had at several destinations, or only one, if the atmosphere is right. Along with these tasty beverages, the seating is oftentimes placed so that patrons can particularly enjoy the decor and scenery. A quiet lunch with friends is made even more pleasurable with the addition of a cocktail…or two. A drink might be just the thing to strike up a new, friendlier relationship with that attractive new co-worker.
What else can be said for these lovely little hot spots of fun and fabulousness? A short stop at any cocktail bar after the office is closed for the day is sure to liven up those long, hard hours of working steadily behind a desk, wishing for more fun. Who knows? Perhaps Prince Charming is waiting there, sitting on the next stool, lounging on the patio, or smiling from behind the bar. The right person could be just around the corner, waiting for that special someone. Everyone is special in their own way, some just know how to take advantage of that.
Nightclubs in London are even better for letting off steam. The dance floors are always packed tightly with the hottest people in town. Brushing shoulders at the bar with a celebrity is quite common, to be sure. Such an experience can only serve to make the highlights of the evening even brighter. Everybody who’s anybody can be seen at some point frequenting the nightclubs. All it takes is a little patience and some looking around for the best clubs.
As the evening fades, the crowd disperses, and patrons begin to linger more quietly in pairs, the fun can be just starting up at another location. Take a stroll to see what’s on the next block. The house specialties are always new and exciting. Adventures abound, waiting to be found. Even a shy little wallflower may bloom from her shell once the music gets into her soul. Dancing is some of the best exercise there is, isn’t it? It’s lovely to get a workout while relaxing, like killing two birds with one stone. Even better when that stone is the rocks a drink is poured over.
The experienced traveler knows what to do to find the best cocktail bar or nightclub in London. All it takes is a willingness to get to know the people, the streets, the signs, and the ability to recognize a good time when it’s there to be had. Good times are good times, the world around. Everyone, no matter their race, nation, or creed, loves to get out and have a good party, especially when the opportunity arises to try new things or meet new people.
Gotta love all the pregnancy-related spam comments.
The crossbow one was entertaining, though.
Just a crossbow how-to, not a pregnant crossbow.