Equations
Listening: Circles - Natalie Walker
Here's your sweetest gift
Take this moment, it is safe
It's true, pure, and beautiful
In return for all your pain.
Eyes wide, heart warm
She sees him in her face
If you watch the way the world gives back
In circles you will trace...
I think I'm too fried to write anything of substance right now. The horrible (beautiful) weather we are having, compiled with the fact that I am still working two jobs, have accumulated to make me mildly miserable. It's not that I don't think the twenty-something temperatures we've been having lately aren't nice, but seriously, I don't have the frame for heat-appropriate clothing, and ergo, I do not have heat-appropriate clothing. The only way I can think of accurately describing the situation is with an equation.
Humid, twenty-plus-degree weather + easily irritated Canadian polar-girl = lapse in brain activity.
Ew. You can imagine I've been spending every spare moment I haven't been at my job(s) or out with the gang that I've been holed up in my cool basement like a confused bear. Wake me when it's late fall, please.
So I've worked every day at Wal-Hell this week (my final week) except for today. And what did I have today? You guessed it--a shift at Chapters. Not that I minded, because it was five hours of scurrying around and stocking shelves, which is really, really easy and also a really good way to get an idea of books to look into reading next. I've let my reading fall to the wayside lately, in lieu of having like four or five stories of my own that captured most of my focus, but I get the odd feeling that working here is going to cause me to relapse into the geeky, freckly, curly-haired girl with the Coke-bottle glasses I thought I buried back in middle school. Not that I'm complaining. I've been reading paranormal fantasy lately, which is an oddity for me. Mostly about werewolves or were-cats or were-whatevers. Why? Because I can.
Holy hell, it is hot in here. Why is my window closed? Just a second.
Also, why was the handle to open the window in a drawer? Weird.
Moving back to the issue of Wal-Hell, I now have one more reason to add to the plethora of reasons I won't be missing the place after I depart on Friday night. This comes in the form of the new front-end manager the place hired after our old one transferred back into Toys. Her name is Nita. And she is a bitch.
Everyone warned me she would be. Word on the street is that the neighboring Wal-Mart on Kelsey Drive, where she transferred from, had a party when she left. At first I thought it was an exaggeration. Now I think I might willingly blow my entire life's savings (about $695.04 Canadian) on having the bash of the year should she ever decide to stop breathing for some reason. Harsh? Yes. But she is a miserable person.
In context: I was a greeter for the past four days. I have never been written up in the one year and nine months I have worked Wal-Mart. Nita threatened to write me up. Why? Because I was standing two feet to the right of where she wanted me to be standing.
I shit you not.
I was so pissed off after that night that when I went outside and found out that there might have been the slightest delay in getting the fuck out of Dodge, I took matters into my own hands. I spotted Matt's SUV, and almost immediately afterwards, I spotted Matt's feet sticking out the back window. He had gone to sleep in the backseat. Colette was in the passenger seat when I opened the driver's side door and slid in.
"Fack this," I said. (Yes, 'fack'.) "You might want to buckle up. No, seriously, buckle up."
"This is only highly illegal," she pointed out as she obeyed.
No, I don't have my driver's license. Only my permit. But truthfully? I didn't care.
Last week at Wal-Hell + crazy bitch manager from Hades = MADCAP DRIVING EXCURSION OF DOOM.
I didn't kill anyone, if that's what you're wondering.
In closing, I have only this to say;
Dear Stephen King,
Please stop writing books. Seriously. I can't fit them on the shelves anymore.
Sincerely, Julia.
Icarus is a bit too crispy and delicious to talk right now.
Here's your sweetest gift
Take this moment, it is safe
It's true, pure, and beautiful
In return for all your pain.
Eyes wide, heart warm
She sees him in her face
If you watch the way the world gives back
In circles you will trace...
I think I'm too fried to write anything of substance right now. The horrible (beautiful) weather we are having, compiled with the fact that I am still working two jobs, have accumulated to make me mildly miserable. It's not that I don't think the twenty-something temperatures we've been having lately aren't nice, but seriously, I don't have the frame for heat-appropriate clothing, and ergo, I do not have heat-appropriate clothing. The only way I can think of accurately describing the situation is with an equation.
Humid, twenty-plus-degree weather + easily irritated Canadian polar-girl = lapse in brain activity.
Ew. You can imagine I've been spending every spare moment I haven't been at my job(s) or out with the gang that I've been holed up in my cool basement like a confused bear. Wake me when it's late fall, please.
So I've worked every day at Wal-Hell this week (my final week) except for today. And what did I have today? You guessed it--a shift at Chapters. Not that I minded, because it was five hours of scurrying around and stocking shelves, which is really, really easy and also a really good way to get an idea of books to look into reading next. I've let my reading fall to the wayside lately, in lieu of having like four or five stories of my own that captured most of my focus, but I get the odd feeling that working here is going to cause me to relapse into the geeky, freckly, curly-haired girl with the Coke-bottle glasses I thought I buried back in middle school. Not that I'm complaining. I've been reading paranormal fantasy lately, which is an oddity for me. Mostly about werewolves or were-cats or were-whatevers. Why? Because I can.
Holy hell, it is hot in here. Why is my window closed? Just a second.
Also, why was the handle to open the window in a drawer? Weird.
Moving back to the issue of Wal-Hell, I now have one more reason to add to the plethora of reasons I won't be missing the place after I depart on Friday night. This comes in the form of the new front-end manager the place hired after our old one transferred back into Toys. Her name is Nita. And she is a bitch.
Everyone warned me she would be. Word on the street is that the neighboring Wal-Mart on Kelsey Drive, where she transferred from, had a party when she left. At first I thought it was an exaggeration. Now I think I might willingly blow my entire life's savings (about $695.04 Canadian) on having the bash of the year should she ever decide to stop breathing for some reason. Harsh? Yes. But she is a miserable person.
In context: I was a greeter for the past four days. I have never been written up in the one year and nine months I have worked Wal-Mart. Nita threatened to write me up. Why? Because I was standing two feet to the right of where she wanted me to be standing.
I shit you not.
I was so pissed off after that night that when I went outside and found out that there might have been the slightest delay in getting the fuck out of Dodge, I took matters into my own hands. I spotted Matt's SUV, and almost immediately afterwards, I spotted Matt's feet sticking out the back window. He had gone to sleep in the backseat. Colette was in the passenger seat when I opened the driver's side door and slid in.
"Fack this," I said. (Yes, 'fack'.) "You might want to buckle up. No, seriously, buckle up."
"This is only highly illegal," she pointed out as she obeyed.
No, I don't have my driver's license. Only my permit. But truthfully? I didn't care.
Last week at Wal-Hell + crazy bitch manager from Hades = MADCAP DRIVING EXCURSION OF DOOM.
I didn't kill anyone, if that's what you're wondering.
In closing, I have only this to say;
Dear Stephen King,
Please stop writing books. Seriously. I can't fit them on the shelves anymore.
Sincerely, Julia.
Icarus is a bit too crispy and delicious to talk right now.
posted by Icarus at 1:23 PM
2 Comments:
I HEREBY NAME YOU REI. *nods* Major props though. Hell, major guts. And congrats on not killing anyone.
As for Nita, I vote we secretly follow her home and egg her house/car/door/face. Whatever's most convenient. (Oh grade-school tactics, how I love you.)
*hugs* Yes, you will be spending a large quantity of your earnings in-store. However, this means that you can now get expensive books for 30% off. Which makes you, me, and everyone else happy. ^^
Also, horray for illegal driving! (I'm glad you didn't kill anyone~) <3
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