Riddle Me This.

Every job I have ever had I have hated at one point or another. I haven't had a lot of jobs. I tell my friends I look terrible on paper. Let us see. I was a paper boy for a year, maybe two. I worked at Mcdonalds for six months. Then I worked at Subway for eight and a half months. Fast food and paper boy. Looking good hotshot.

Of these jobs, I have vented about most of them here. Maybe somewhere else. I really don't want to do that again. And this one seems unique. This comes from my highly experienced employment record. I now work at 7-11. Add "convenience store" or maybe "sales associate" to that list of awesome resume. How do I say this?

I hate going to work. I don't mind being there, and I don't mind leaving. The customers aren't too bad. Some of them stumble around. The other people who work there don't really affect my time there. It is really only a one person job at night. Oh, I work at night. I just hate going to work. I get stuck in how much I really don't want to go to work. I think stuff, like if a car hit me, or I slipped on the ice and broke my arm, it would not be too bad. I would not have to go to work.

I do not want to vent, just understand. Why? Why do I think it so terrible? I hypothesized that maybe it was the people. One girl is grumpy, but I realized she is always grumpy. Sucks for her. Another lady freaks out a lot, but she tries to be nice, and that's what matters. "Freaks out" is highly exaggerated. As in I mean swears-and-complains-about-many-things. The manager is nice enough. The night guy who taught me how to do everything at night is very likable. He is a talker. Every second person who comes in at night asks where he is, or if he is there. I haven't really worked with anyone else. There is one lady that I assoiciated with another lady, who I worked with at Subway, and a Philippino lady who reminds me of my old Korean boss. Why? Why this hate?

That is all.

Sometimes you can't make it on your own.

I don't think I can dance. Peninsula united was last night. This stuff takes a lot of set up. Good golly. But we did it. I would like to think it was a success. There was a dance party type shindig afterwards. Heanok's brother, Sammy, was the DJ. Disk jockey. I tried. Really, I did.

Cats are very strange. I would not say I am a cat person. I would not say I am a dog person. But, if there is no one else to hang out with, I have but little choice. This would be so much easier if they could talk. Maybe people wouldn't like their pets so much.

I work at 7-11 now. I work their today. I don't think I like it a lot, but I don't really know yet. Once, I thought working there would be a great job. I was not very old. And did not work there.

If I were literate, I would write complete sentences. And full paragraphs. And maybe even make sense. Then I would tell great tales that would inspire all you knew of them. It really is to bad. If I were literate, I probably would not work at a glorified corner store.

One day.

The Times They Are a-Changin'

I hope that ends well. I have a friend that I really did not know for a while. Like, some of my friends knew him. We would be in the same place sometimes, and those people who knew him would be there, and I'm with my friends too, so I could be whoever. I don't get to know people crazy well in groups. Groups offer casual observation of people you don't know, I guess. See how they react, what they do. You don't know who they are. Even if they do talk all the time. Like him. He missed his bus, so we walked into Sidney, and waited twenty minutes for the bus, just chillin' and talking. He might be convinced to get a job. I find that the best times I have with people are just me and someone else. I reflect happily on those times almost every time.

Matthew told me to write a book. Three months without a job, I asked him frequently about stuff. That's vague, and too bad. So I started transcribing what I had written in and old beat up notebook into text form. I wanted to anyways. I was scared the book would get soaked through with rain and torn apart by savage cats, and that it would all be lost. Today I wrote the last of what I had in the book on to the computer. Forever digitalized. Then I started moving the old blog posts into the same file.

Things were better back in the day. So much better. I was ridiculously sad. Nostalgic might be what they call it. I talked with a friend about this. She totally agreed, but had to get back to studying.

When I think these thoughts, some of me always thinks about how, one day, I will look back on today and wonder what happened to all those good times. How, maybe, I should be enjoying now like I enjoyed then. I read an article in a magazine somewhere about a lady who actually could not forget. She remembered, vividly, almost like reliving it, her entire life to that point. She said it was very distracting. She also said that, yeah, it actually was better back in the day, it isn't just a dumb saying. Today will be back in the day a year or two from now.

I'm thinking about doing something that I think will be really cool with this, but I don't want to say I am, and then not. And saying I will do something has not stopped me from not doing it before, so. Wait and see.