If I had a dollar...

So, there I was, flippin' through the latest Vicki's catalog (courtesy of our dear, mysterious benefactor, one, Miss Richie -- thank you, sweetheart), and I was thinking... "God, the Body By Victoria panties look so soft!" and also, "Oh, there's that one bra that I tried on and fell in love with..." as well as, "Hmm, I tried that one on, and it was so uncomfortable! why does everybody rave about it?" ...And then I though... "Well, Hell, I'm one poor girl." So, I crack open a can of Port (that's Mountain Dew Code Red, in case you were wondering. As opposed to Starboard, which is just my regular poison of choice), and I lean back, and I says to myself, I says, "Self, you need to find yourself a better job."

My job sucks. ...And smells like ranch. There is no organization, and no sense of purpose. In fact, it's kind of like Fordham. Let me take a moment to talk to you about Fordham. ..........On second thought... let me tell you what just happened. I thought I would take a moment to talk to you about Fordham, but I ended up with something that was more along the lines of several moments, paragraphs, pages and pages upon pages of Fordham trash talk. I have since made an executive decision to talk to you about Fordham at a later date. Everything has a time and a place, and right now, this is not. it.

I hate getting up off my lazy, blogging ass to put on my ranch-with-flecks-of- raspberry-and-balsamic- vinaigrette-and-a-touch-of-thousand-cesar and stand around for six hours before scrambling in the next two to clean everything as fast as I can. ...I've never hated a job before now. I like to work. I like to earn money. I like to feel accomplished. This job doesn't have enough of any of that. And I've been that salad bar's bitch for more than two months now, and I have yet to see a dime from it's sick, sticky inside. A paycheck would be nice right about now. Funds are low.

Hopefully, the Warehouse will call me back in a couple of weeks. Work for them should be starting again soon. That's a good job. And good people, too. I am a firm believer that the people you work with makes up for eighty percent or so of employee satisfaction. I'd actually like to look around for another job and apply while I'm working for the Warehouse. If my timing is right, I might be able to get another part-time job while I'm working there then give my two-week's notice at the Market...... Well, apparently, a little wishful thinking never hurt.

Now, a rundown:
Feeding and finding cats -- awesome.
The Williams Boys -- hard work. Most tiring. Very rewarding. Paid in cash. Score.
Kidsland -- hard work. Very tiring. LOVE job. Room for advancement. I hate candy. I hate cotton candy more.*
Fordham Security -- not too sucky. Paid to do homework. Great people. Good pay.
Shoveling -- hard work. Maybe tied for most tiring. Not rewarding. Paid in basic necessities of life. Bad job, but I didn't hate it.
The Warehouse -- great job. Decent amount of work. Also room for advancement. Seasonal. Great people.*
Marketplace -- sux.

*faves

Thought of the day? I'd rather just get paid one hundred dollars every time I endure a bad song on the radio.