The Wee Democracy

i work

maybe not in the traditional sense of the word. that is to say, not reporting to a place to exchange good or services for a paycheck. but i write. sometimes.

but that all changes today. today i took a seasonal job at a shitty wage at a local department store. oh, i'm sure they're in other states, but i'd rather say local department store, because, frankly, it makes the job sound more depressing, and i find that humorous.

i've had a series of un-glamorous jobs. i've never made more than 10 bucks an hour, even as a waiter, and i'm certainly not making near that much money now. however, i do get a fat discount, and let's face it - i don't like work.

i've done:
waiter at a shitty mexican restaurant
bakery in my dorm
construction
cafeteria in my dorm
resident assistant (the most degrading and least profitable job ever)
returned to cafeteria for a total of two weeks
office gopher/bitch
telemarketer
department store

it's kinda funny. i mean, considering i DO have a degree and i am fairly intelligent. you'd think i'd have some kind of office job, or perhaps something in journalism. but no. you'd figure wrong. i kinda like it though. i get to laugh about it. and, hey, it's money. i'm not against that.

this is not a communist country.



feeling: achey - my back especially. i think i traded one monkey for a bigger one. bastard
thinking of: how this job will look on my resume
song of the day: ohio - damien jurado

i've gotten to know her, to live with, to love her, it's hard to see her leave. she belongs to her mother and the state of ohio. i wish she belonged to me.