Hey look, it's Ree! And she's moody!
..well, duh, quoth the raven.
Yeah... so, guess who blew a job interview today? Go ahead, guess! That's right -- me! McfuckingDonald's doesn't want to hire me. This is not doing wonders for my ego, let me tell YOU. *exhales loudly and yearns for a smoke, despite being majorly sensitive to smoke*
God was a little kind to me. Some truly excellent country on the radio on the drive back to my mom's. I meant to stay at my house, I really did. Packed everything I got for Christmas into the car and everything.
And then, I got to the interview, and I had to take this lame quiz thing. If I dropped fries on the floor would I serve them or throw them away. That kind of thing. And I filled it out as best I could, minding that it wasn't my place to blow the store's money or anything. I may not always act like it, but I am still a farm girl. We don't waste things and we don't waste money. It's not good for business.
Well. The manager type had this cute little card with holes punched in it to check my answers. My heart sank to my left big toe when I saw that only half the holes had dark circles in them like they were apparently supposed to. The manager had to check and re-check to make sure it was aligned properly.
You have to get at least 8 specific responses the way the store wants.
I got 7.
I tried so hard not to cry. I managed a rueful smile as I walked out of the store. It was raining, had been all morning. I'd thought the rain was easing up, but when I walked out of that building, the sky had never seemed so grey.
I cried. I had to call my mom and tell her I didn't get it. Yes, I'm sure. No, it's not a "we'll call you". They said I won't be considered.
Apparently it takes experience to make a cup of coffee in this town. Yaaaaaay-not. I'm not making this up. Ladies and gentlemen, from the offical South Dakota One-Stop website: "*****MUST HAVE COFFEE AND SMOOTHIE MAKING EXPERIENCE*********"
I am trying and failing to find this very amusing.
What does amuse me is the thought that I was reasonably good at bottle-feeding calves on the farm when I was in high school. It's not something I can write on a job application form as previous work experience, but it is something I can do. The reason this amuses me is that is led to my brain thinking, why don't I just go back to that? And the thought culminated in, I wonder what that nagging old lady next door would do if I kept calves in the back yard. MOOOOOOOOOO! Or rather, UMAAAAAAAAAAAA! *snickers* Okay, that was fun. It has been too long since I had a good UMAA!
...I miss Jack. *pfft* I really need to get over that, I know. I'm just a gradual kind of person. People do not change abruptly unless something is wrong. That's the way my brain seems to work. So that he just -- left... he won't email me?
Bah. If I drive that topic into the ground any farther it'll block streets in China. Which would be an interesting sight, true, but can you imagine the upper body strength it would take to hammer that much? I can't do that.
I have taken to doing bicep curls with one arm as I navigate webcomics with ther other. This means my left arm mostly gets the weight lifting (a paltry 1 lb. but it still leaves me sore in the morning, ack, weak me!). I work on the right arm when I watch TV, or as I observe Squirt playing Star Wars: Bounty Hunter. I suck at the game, but he's already beaten it (!) and he makes it look easy. Stylish even.
Get this, O my darling readers. Squirt's goal in life is to become a genuine bounty hunter.
The boy is nucking futz, I tell you. Mad. It's in the gene pool. ;) On Randy's side, of course. *exhales loudly and glares westward toward the homestead of the aptly named Randy*
I showed peanut pictures of my housemate's kittens today. The pictures are from November, but they're soooo cute. Apparently my housemate's little glamour cat Lexy is a dead ringer for peanut's mom's cat. This is mildly eerie, but I, unlike DiaryLand's beloved Marn, happen to enjoy the slightly X-Files scenarios. Provided they leave out Duchovny, of course. I've seen used toothpicks with more acting ability. Yech. I gotta give him just a little credit for having a degree outside of theatre, though. *golf clap*
..."golf clap" sounds like a really disturbing disease, doesn't it? Or maybe I just shouldn't update at... a quarter of eight in the morning. *stares at computer clock and watch alternately* Dear God, it's a decent hour. I'm updating at a decent hour.
Now that is a bizarre occurance.
A friend (I think I've previously designated him Cherub, after his online nick) has been chatting me up online lately. It's nice, not being ignored. :) I had told him about the interview earlier, so he asked me how it went. I told him the sob story. He asked me what I was going to do next.
I responded with something pithy about reading webcomics.
He laughed and said that wasn't what he meant. What was I going to do for a job?
I had to say that I didn't have the foggiest shadow of a clue. (Do I get an award for mixing metaphors so badly?) What do you do when the lowest job offer you have falls through and you don't have experience doing anything, in a world that requires experience to make coffee?
*sighs heavily*
Niece wrote a glorious fanfic, for anyone out there familiar with the Yami no Matsuei series. It's very good. Most fics commit violent character assassination, but hers is remarkably on target. Yay. And I hope sometime Tatsumi really does get that uninhibited. He's way too straightlaced. *g*
I'm off, to search job sites and take a shower before church. I keep telling God to give me a path to follow already, instead of constantly dumping me in a field with no way to tell what way I should go at all. Bad God. Don't do that to me. It makes me all hissy and cheesed off. >p
Ah, blasphemy. What a great way to end an entry.