(no subject)
Guess Jenae's Summer Job!
My job entails...
Distributing navy blue mesh bags.
Smiling.
Folding clothing perfectly.
Organizing plastic decks of cards with numbers on them.
Smiling.
Knowing where all storage items are located.
More smiling.
That's right. I'm a sales associate at the Gap making nearly minimum wage at $7.00 an hour.
So, I think I'm excited.
It's sort of one of those "you get what you wish for" moments where I feel happy and confused and nervous all at that same time.
Jenae's good writing went "woosh" a long time ago.
Anyway, I'll be busy this summer. That's for sure. I think it will be a really great experience for me though. Everyone should have a real working job at some point. I'll learn to appreciate my priviledged existence. :) Then again, The Gap is not exactly going to give me the most hardcore slice of life, but it'll definitely not all be spoiled kids me. I am looking forward to it, but I don't really know what to expect or whether the job will be as boring as hell.
You know, that expression makes little sense. Hell actually seems like quite an interesting place. Then again, sinners are an interesting bunch.
::ahem::
Anyway.
I figure I can always quit if I totally hate it or Borders (::crosses fingers::) offers me a job. I would love to be around books all day, if only to feel new pages crackle under my fingers all the time.
My foot hurts.
You want an explanation, do you?
After I had my interview at The Gap (before I knew I had the job), I went over to another store in the same outlet mall to turn in my application for G.H. Bass & Company (some store that sells orthopedic shoes that are overpriced and have leather tassles on them). I open the door, happy I've found the place because I couldn't remember where it was, but, oblivious to where I was walking, I opened the door and it grazed my pinky toe. Red gushed out of my toe as a worker came up to me when I entered the store and asked me if I needed anything. I meekly held out my job application, trying to just give it to him and run so I could find a bathroom to clean up my flowing foot, but instead he chirps...
"I'll go get my manager!"
So, I'm standing in the middle of the store. My flip-flop is partially red (when it's supposed to be brown) and I'm attempting to stop the flow of blood.
Needless to say, that was a pretty futile effort. I felt like Lady Macbeth (only less sinister), trying to wipe the blood off my hands.
The manager comes (and she is, of course, beautiful) and I tell her I have a job application. She smiles, takes the paper, and tells me that she'll "call." She doesn't notice my foot. I tried to be discreet, I did.
"Um, do you have any tissues? Or paper towels I could use? My foot is bleeding."
She glances down.
"Oh. Well, I have a couple of Band-Aids, I think."
On cue, angels burst forth from the heavens.
Band-Aids! Perfect! Fantastic!
She tosses a couple across the counter from the requisite First-Aid Kit that is probably never used on any other occasion. I try to sound calm, manage to utter a quick "Thank you for your time and Band-Aids," and rush outside to apply them.
Yeah, I bled through the Band-Aids. I didn't want to deliver my application to Izod. I still don't really know what they sell there, but the store had a wicked cool name. I guess it doesn't matter anymore, since I've been hired, but it was disappointing to not turn it in nonetheless. Then again, it wouldn't have been possible I was having trouble, well, walking and it was on the other side of the mall.
I rushed home and discovered I had taken a huge chunk out of my skin. Eeeew. I can't really look at it. I'm really squeamish when it comes to blood.
Now my foot hurts, though. It keeps throbbing. Make it stop. :(
Griiiiiipe.
Anyway, that's my exciting news for the day! I'm officially part of the working class with a sliced toe to boot.
My job entails...
Distributing navy blue mesh bags.
Smiling.
Folding clothing perfectly.
Organizing plastic decks of cards with numbers on them.
Smiling.
Knowing where all storage items are located.
More smiling.
That's right. I'm a sales associate at the Gap making nearly minimum wage at $7.00 an hour.
So, I think I'm excited.
It's sort of one of those "you get what you wish for" moments where I feel happy and confused and nervous all at that same time.
Jenae's good writing went "woosh" a long time ago.
Anyway, I'll be busy this summer. That's for sure. I think it will be a really great experience for me though. Everyone should have a real working job at some point. I'll learn to appreciate my priviledged existence. :) Then again, The Gap is not exactly going to give me the most hardcore slice of life, but it'll definitely not all be spoiled kids me. I am looking forward to it, but I don't really know what to expect or whether the job will be as boring as hell.
You know, that expression makes little sense. Hell actually seems like quite an interesting place. Then again, sinners are an interesting bunch.
::ahem::
Anyway.
I figure I can always quit if I totally hate it or Borders (::crosses fingers::) offers me a job. I would love to be around books all day, if only to feel new pages crackle under my fingers all the time.
My foot hurts.
You want an explanation, do you?
After I had my interview at The Gap (before I knew I had the job), I went over to another store in the same outlet mall to turn in my application for G.H. Bass & Company (some store that sells orthopedic shoes that are overpriced and have leather tassles on them). I open the door, happy I've found the place because I couldn't remember where it was, but, oblivious to where I was walking, I opened the door and it grazed my pinky toe. Red gushed out of my toe as a worker came up to me when I entered the store and asked me if I needed anything. I meekly held out my job application, trying to just give it to him and run so I could find a bathroom to clean up my flowing foot, but instead he chirps...
"I'll go get my manager!"
So, I'm standing in the middle of the store. My flip-flop is partially red (when it's supposed to be brown) and I'm attempting to stop the flow of blood.
Needless to say, that was a pretty futile effort. I felt like Lady Macbeth (only less sinister), trying to wipe the blood off my hands.
The manager comes (and she is, of course, beautiful) and I tell her I have a job application. She smiles, takes the paper, and tells me that she'll "call." She doesn't notice my foot. I tried to be discreet, I did.
"Um, do you have any tissues? Or paper towels I could use? My foot is bleeding."
She glances down.
"Oh. Well, I have a couple of Band-Aids, I think."
On cue, angels burst forth from the heavens.
Band-Aids! Perfect! Fantastic!
She tosses a couple across the counter from the requisite First-Aid Kit that is probably never used on any other occasion. I try to sound calm, manage to utter a quick "Thank you for your time and Band-Aids," and rush outside to apply them.
Yeah, I bled through the Band-Aids. I didn't want to deliver my application to Izod. I still don't really know what they sell there, but the store had a wicked cool name. I guess it doesn't matter anymore, since I've been hired, but it was disappointing to not turn it in nonetheless. Then again, it wouldn't have been possible I was having trouble, well, walking and it was on the other side of the mall.
I rushed home and discovered I had taken a huge chunk out of my skin. Eeeew. I can't really look at it. I'm really squeamish when it comes to blood.
Now my foot hurts, though. It keeps throbbing. Make it stop. :(
Griiiiiipe.
Anyway, that's my exciting news for the day! I'm officially part of the working class with a sliced toe to boot.