hello hello. i gots a job.
Kohl's just called me as soon as we got home from Target and hired me. I'm a temporary employee for the first 90 days (all their employees are temporary at first, it seems) and I'll make $7/hour, working about 25 hours a week (well, they didn't tell me that, but I assume as much since that's what I said I'd work). $175/week, then! Not much, I guess, but more than I was making sitting on my ass being a pustulent knitter.
I knew those bitches would hire me. I was holding out for Michaels, but I was starting to get worried that no one was going to hire me at all, so I took it. At least I can quit if it turns out to be shit, but it should be okay. Orientation is Friday night from 6-10 PM. I'll be an 'associate,' which means cashier duty, hanging up clothes, refolding things, putting shit away and generally cleaning up around the store.
So open your arms, capitalism, and welcome me into your fold!
It just rained for all of 2 seconds, and of course it rained for the 2 seconds we happened to be going between the car and the house, taking in groceries. I got a rubber carpet rake! This may sound stupid, but it is something I desired so I could clean all the hair and shit out of my carpet before vacuuming it up. And oh, does my floor need it.
I'm thinking about rearranging my room again. I plan on painting the north wall yellow as soon as I get to Lowe's and have some paint mixed, and I was wondering if Dad could take apart my (actually Smeg's) bedframe and put in real wood slats on the sides so it can stop squeaking and there's no risk of me breaking THIS bed (if you remember 2 years ago, my considerably lighter ass crashed onto the bed and split one side of it in two). I don't know if he will because he has a bunch of other Typically Stupid Dad Projects to work on.
Speaking of that, when we came home, all the dishes were stacked on the counter and stove because he has decided to somehow adhere our crappy-ass little 5-channel kitchen-countertop television/radio to the bottom of the cabinet. As we put groceries away, he got all "INCREDULOUS? INCREDULOUS!!!!!!" because there were holes already there.
"I think those sons of bitches had a TV here and they took it with them!!!"
Cue Mom, Smeg and me glancing at each other, confused. "So?"
"So they could have LEFT it here!!! *Xtr33m r4g3* If I sold them a house, I'd take out the water heater when I moved!!!"
"... It's a TV. An appliance. They're allowed."
"*more bitching* Those bastards were crazy before and they're even crazier now!!!"
I don't know why he's insane. He's just getting weirder with age and it's best if we all just ignore him and work around his dumbassery.
I was playing piano after Smeg and Mom left for her sleep appointment earlier, and I'm getting pretty good at the chords of "Never Let Me Down Again." It's a lot of fun to play. I also managed to tab out the "do do DOdoDO DOdo DO doDODOdo DO-DO-DO doDOdoDO" bit (since the sheet I got didn't have it), but I'm not sure what the first note is. It's E, F, or Eb. Or maybe D. The last notes are definitely G-G-G F-G-F-G and the ones before that are B-A-B-A* (*not accurate, because it's hard to remember the exact song and notes while I'm a floor above the piano and the CD isn't playing).
I'm giving How To Dismember An Aplombic Bond another listen for the first time in ages because it is Bono's 46th birthday today. Happy birthday, Bono! I hope you get cake. And, um, a debtless Africa.
J.
I knew those bitches would hire me. I was holding out for Michaels, but I was starting to get worried that no one was going to hire me at all, so I took it. At least I can quit if it turns out to be shit, but it should be okay. Orientation is Friday night from 6-10 PM. I'll be an 'associate,' which means cashier duty, hanging up clothes, refolding things, putting shit away and generally cleaning up around the store.
So open your arms, capitalism, and welcome me into your fold!
It just rained for all of 2 seconds, and of course it rained for the 2 seconds we happened to be going between the car and the house, taking in groceries. I got a rubber carpet rake! This may sound stupid, but it is something I desired so I could clean all the hair and shit out of my carpet before vacuuming it up. And oh, does my floor need it.
I'm thinking about rearranging my room again. I plan on painting the north wall yellow as soon as I get to Lowe's and have some paint mixed, and I was wondering if Dad could take apart my (actually Smeg's) bedframe and put in real wood slats on the sides so it can stop squeaking and there's no risk of me breaking THIS bed (if you remember 2 years ago, my considerably lighter ass crashed onto the bed and split one side of it in two). I don't know if he will because he has a bunch of other Typically Stupid Dad Projects to work on.
Speaking of that, when we came home, all the dishes were stacked on the counter and stove because he has decided to somehow adhere our crappy-ass little 5-channel kitchen-countertop television/radio to the bottom of the cabinet. As we put groceries away, he got all "INCREDULOUS? INCREDULOUS!!!!!!" because there were holes already there.
"I think those sons of bitches had a TV here and they took it with them!!!"
Cue Mom, Smeg and me glancing at each other, confused. "So?"
"So they could have LEFT it here!!! *Xtr33m r4g3* If I sold them a house, I'd take out the water heater when I moved!!!"
"... It's a TV. An appliance. They're allowed."
"*more bitching* Those bastards were crazy before and they're even crazier now!!!"
I don't know why he's insane. He's just getting weirder with age and it's best if we all just ignore him and work around his dumbassery.
I was playing piano after Smeg and Mom left for her sleep appointment earlier, and I'm getting pretty good at the chords of "Never Let Me Down Again." It's a lot of fun to play. I also managed to tab out the "do do DOdoDO DOdo DO doDODOdo DO-DO-DO doDOdoDO" bit (since the sheet I got didn't have it), but I'm not sure what the first note is. It's E, F, or Eb. Or maybe D. The last notes are definitely G-G-G F-G-F-G and the ones before that are B-A-B-A* (*not accurate, because it's hard to remember the exact song and notes while I'm a floor above the piano and the CD isn't playing).
I'm giving How To Dismember An Aplombic Bond another listen for the first time in ages because it is Bono's 46th birthday today. Happy birthday, Bono! I hope you get cake. And, um, a debtless Africa.
J.