Apparently I still have a job, which is cool. My boss, Jane, who seems to be made of everything nice, said she was going to try and give me hours when she has them so she may keep my name in the system instead of terminating (and that’s the word she used) my records along with most of the other seasonal employees. I’m grateful, but what’s not cool is that I did wake up sick this morning, and I had to go in at 8 a.m. to do markdowns. Rats.
A buddy at the gym is trying to talk me into reapplying there. I don’t know how I feel about doing that, because I did have a callback last year and they decided (from what I heard via the grapevine) that I was too young. I’m not sure being nineteen now is enough to challenge their hiring politics. I had a gut feeling that I wasn’t hired because I had hoped to keep my Tuesday and Thursday nights for kung fu.
I would probably be more successful if I stopped putting off the Red Cross lifeguard option, but I don’t exactly love myself enough to come to the rescue in a bathing suit just yet. I’ll shoot for this summer, though.
I’m still feeling sore, but it’s entirely in the flu way. I have an awful feeling that this week will only squirm along, as opposed to…kick ass along. This is exactly what I needed to start my first semester, let me tell you. I finally got my foot in the door, and instead of rushing into the commotion, I’ve crawled and hid under a table like Ruby Rhod.
