Job Hunting: Day 1

Soon as I got out of class at noon, I went straight to the Student Union to eat and look at the job listings on campus. Nothing I really wanted so I whipped out my handy dandy laptop and went on the search on craigslist. I know, I know. At least its a start. I was so buried in the site that I didn't know someone was staring at me. It was Denise.

She's one of the girls that lives diagonally from me but we have different classes this semester. We used to be close after having spent the last two semesters in the same class but different hours, but not this time. She pushed my backpack aside and asked what I was doing.

"Job hunting".
"Why? I thought you liked it at the steak house".
"It got old. I didn't like the people there".
"What are you going to do now?"
"I need to do something. My van died yesterday and I need some quick cash."
"Well you can always do what Sarah's doing."
"Which is?"
"Dancing."
"What, stripping?"
"Its exotic dancing."
"Whatever. Its still stripping to me. And no thanks. Aren't those place dangerous?"
"Depends where you go. Its quick money."
"I'm not that desperate yet. I think I'll stick to normal jobs."
"Its a thought.""
"What are you doing? Same oh?"
"Yep. Waitressing at The Kettle. I make decent tips. Nothing to brag about."
"I was thinking about this one about donating my eggs."
"Really? Why?"
"It says here that you'll be well compensated whatever that means."
"Hmm. Well when you go, tell me how it is and what how much you get. I gotta run."

That was the extent of our conversation. Then Brett sat his happy ass down but not before I asked him to get me a Coke. He's a friend who has the hots for me. I don't see us doing anything or getting together, but its nice to have friends.

Now I'm back at home doing homework and facebook. :)

Karma's A Bitch

I was talking to Shannon on the phone about how and what we can do to the site and I get several interrupted beeps. I looked at the screen on my non smart phone and it was an unknown number, but I knew it was from someone at work. I don't reply to unknown numbers unless I have them tagged on my phone. After the second text, I didn't even give it a second thought as the person never identified herself. I say that gender with utmost certainty.

Then the 7400 suffix pops up on my screen and a smaller menu giving me the option of "Send to voice mail" appeared which I promptly chose with severe prejudice. I kept on talking to Shannon cuz I'm not letting anything like that interrupt something rather pressing.

I later read the texts from unknown person. She was pleading to have me do a 1:1 with a "tough guy" cuz he'd punched a woman in the face enough to send her to the ER. Then the other text read "Call in pay and $25 for every four hours". Whatever.

This is coming from the same people who put me on mandatory leave and had me go see a therapist for my "anger issues". RIGHT.

You want me to do my job? I'll do my job. I'll be firm and fair, but don't send me to a therapist cuz you think I have anger issues. As of this writing, I'm seeing a counselor of my own choosing due to my PTSD, not anger. Its more like frustration cuz I can't get passed the trashcan to the face, but I'm being enlightened as to why I'm feeling this way. There's other stuff going on which is the deeper root of the problem.

Alternator and everything else

I had the upstairs neighbor take a look at my van--its an old Chevy Astro van. Not only did the vehicle not start, there a was a huge leak from around the oil pan!!

Its like the van just went up and died while spilling its guts out because it knew I wasn't going to fix it. I thanked my neighbor for all his troubles and gave him $20. He's somewhat in the same boat I'm in. I don't want to, but I'll have to call my parents on this one.

As for my life, I'm currently finishing up a semester at UWF (University of West Florida) before I go back to the ranch. Not really looking forward to it, but hey. Its home. And home is where the heart is. Up til today when the van died, I was on the wait staff at a local steak house. Bare minimum wage plus tips. Busting my butt and going to school with little time for a social life.

I guess I really don't need one at the moment, but it'd help my 'social networking' skills as I'm lacking in the field. I don't like my coworkers: the bus persons, the other waitresses, waiters, but the cooks are nice to me to say the least.

On top of it all, I need new glasses. The screw on the left lens came off as I got hit with a football last weekend at the beach. I happened to have the right of way, but the douche who threw the ball said he was aiming for his friend who was nowhere near me. I think there's a conspiracy.

I don't have time to think about it. Just get my check for this week, pay for new glasses and then home sweet home at the ranch. I feel much more confident when I'm home instead of the city. Granted, I have my pistols with me, but some how, I just feel safer at home instead of this ratty student ghetto.

That's it for now. I'll keep you updated.

Ms. Money Whore

Its official! w00t ... now i have to come up with content. Nice. I'll rely on Shannon for that. I'm sure she has a lot to say. :D

Head Gasket

The van is busted. Damn head gasket.

We're looking at a major overhaul. I don't know if I should even go ahead and get it fixed. There's other things wrong with it that I have no clue as to what. Like whenever I break, there's a loud screeching in the wheels. And it over heats. And oil leaks. I might as well just sell it to the junkyard and get another beater.

I hate this. I'll have to pay my sister, Charlotte, to give me rides to work til I can afford another lemon. Or I'll have to dip into my emergency cash and get a dependable car which I'd rather have than another beater. This is my third beater. Its getting old.

I haven't picked up any extra shifts because I don't my coworkers any more. I don't care to socialize with them. I think I've grown out of them also. Meh. I think I'm going on the job hunt. Minimum wage sucks balls. And having no van just blows too. 

Crapola.