Freedom!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I finished working at The Warehouse yesterday. I am extremely happy. I, well...um...hated it. Completely. There is nothing that I can think of that I will miss...except, perhaps, the paycheck, though since I only worked Saturdays and some Wednesdays, there isn't much of a paycheck to miss.

I don't get it. People were annoyed when I said that I didn't like my job, but they're the ones who asked me how I liked it. What was I supposed to do, lie? I was thankful for having a job, but c'mon! As if I was supposed to LOVE standing on my feet for 9 hours with one half hour lunch, and 2 unevenly spaced and sometimes forgotten 15 minute breaks! As if I'm supposed to love the monotonous job of scanning item after item and dealing with crabby customer after crabby customer and the questions of "Where are you from?," "Do you like America or New Zealand better?", and, "Are you staying forever?" about every 5 mins, which, I must say, after being here for 8 months, gets kinda old. And my "supervisors" who, if I so much as breathed an extra breath, tell me to "get back to work" or "look busy" no matter if the customer I was serving just left .000000001 seconds ago, or if I'm trying to help a lost child get to someone with an intercom..a.k.a. one of the supervisors. Ha!

People try to tell me that my job isn't that bad. Well, it ain't that good either. It just means that the person who's telling me this has a higher enjoyment for this kind of work. Or that working at the Warehouse is 1mm up from worse work. Or it probably also means that they're not working the job that I am so it's all talk. Hmm...

I've come to realize that I don't like working in retail. It's not particular stores, or stores in a particular country, it's just the retail. In fact, I don't like retail or office jobs. I like art. I want to do art. Is that so hard to understand? My mind isn't mentally stimulated in retail work, and most office work is incredibly dull to me. I'm an artist!! Too much time spent on the left side of the brain could easily kill me! But I figure, in choosing between finding another retail job, and doing temp work in an office--they're both horrible, but temp work tends to pay more. So temping, here I go.


I'm broke. Under $100 left on my credit card, barely any money in the bank, and bill after bill due. I'm up a creek. Whatever that means. Anyway...prayer please.


But God is still good.