H O M E

There are very few things I actually miss about working in retail, cause lets be real....once an old lady with what can only be surmised as Alzheimer tries to physically fight you at the cash register because you remind her of some bitch from 1920's who stole her boo at the speakeasy, the minimum wage and employee discount really don't seem worth it.

I haven't worked in retail in almost 4 years and it's insane to think that I slaved away in the aisle of the bookstore for as long as i did. There used to be this time, not so long ago, when I worked two jobs, the latter at crazy hours with customers who included a guy who smeared shit on the bathroom mirrors so frequently we donned him the phantom pooper. The 3rd time it happened, I remember we all just stopped working so we could run to the bathroom in disgust and fascination at the balls on this guy for having poop as his calling card.

Now that I am a slave to the cubicle life, I sometimes look back at my time at Le Sad Store and wonder how i did it for so long. Especially because there were almost no perks to the job.

For one, minimum wage is a bitch and anyone who complains that we shouldn't raise it have never worked a "real job" a day in their life. While working a cushy office gig pays your bills and weekend off ....you get a warrior badge if you survive working retail. Because a lot of people don't.  I started at Le Sad Store making $9 per hour and post college, this seemed like a gold mine of a hourly wage. I had just come off working $5 at my school library which allowed me to buy weekly foot-longs from Subway while I played the sims to kill time. So of course the $4 bump seemed like my first real step towards financially security. I was a fool!

Realistically $9 aint shit when you have actual bills to pay and add rent on top of that I barely had enough money for food at the end of my paycheck. Despite this I still went out regularly, was a frequent buyer of tattered Forever 21 clothes and abused the shit out of that employee discount by funneling most of my paycheck back into the company with all my  unnecessary book, dvd's and cafe purchases.

Secondly, working on the weekend should be banned! You go through most of your life taking advantage of Saturday and Sunday that when it is stripped away from you it feels like a death. For almost 8 years, I worked on weekends to the point where Tuesday and Wednesday's were my day of rest. But there is something sacred about Saturday and Sunday. It's hard to explain. Saturday just feels like a Saturday. As does Sunday. The two days are supposed to be about relaxation or fun if that is your choice. Working should not even be a thing one has to do.

Towards the end of my time at the bookstore I was clocking in only around 28 hours a week. EVEN THEN, most of those hours were spent working on the weekend. And idk, it's just sort of awful. Saturdays should be for errands and hanging out and movies and naps. On Sunday, I should only have to wake up enough to maybe put on pants and find something binge-able on TV. I should not have to work for 8 hours surrounded by people who openly choose to be at my place of work! it's offensive.

But the real crux of working in retail is the customer because most people are trash. I am an insanely accommodating shopper because of my time spent being harassed, embarrassed, demeaned and once again PHYSICALLY assaulted by the general public (she brought the cane out!). I try to buy things only online so I don't even have to set foot in any retail establishment (except Target. I love Target) because I know how awful people can treat retail workers. I also judge potential friends and romantic partners by how they interact with severs, cashiers and other "hospitality" workers. If you don't say "thank you" or are dismissive or leave a shitty tip you are a trash person who i do not want to know. There are way too many awful customer stories to detail but just know that it's worse than you could ever imagine.

And while the actual customers are terrible what's even worse is the entitlement people hold over you. People assume you work in retail because you aren't qualified to work anywhere else. That you should just get a real job. That looking for books and ringing up customers is super easy. And to give them credit, a lot of it is easy but that doesn't mean anyone who works in retail isn't busting their ass. I was in the best shape of my life at the bookstore because I was on my feet all day. Between shelving books and finding books and chasing teenagers out of the store, I burned more calories at work then I ever did in mandatory PE classes. I also had to sacrifice holidays because people love to shop. We worked all the Eve's and never got any government holidays off just so you could buy the latest New York Times bestseller.

Also, working parents would often leave their kids (babies) at the store as if we were a personal daycare center and while it wasn't our responsibility to watch them we legit kept watch over children left to fend for themselves at the store. We also had to deal with "regulars"...well on the regular. People who frequented the store so often they might as well have lived there. They talked to us repeatedly as if we were their friends and most times we were empathetic ears to lonely and worn down individuals. So yea, finding someone the Secret for the 7th million time isn't that hard BUT spending 7 long hours on your feet, making less than $10 an hour as people continue to berate you because you can't find "the book that has a red cover" can be a daunting if not noble venture.

I must have a form of PTSD from my time in the bookstore because even though it has been four years since clocking in, I do have a tendency of watching Youtube videos of customers freaking out in public. My Youtube history is full of videos of customers behaving badly while people stare on horrified and appalled and yet still paralyzed to do anything.  At first I thought this was just me being a huge ass weirdo, but I confirmed with another former bookseller worker that I am not the only one who does this! I did not become a lifelong retailer worker but there is a smidgen of guilt for the life and friends I left behind and maybe having a reminder every once in a while is how i leave pay my penitence.

Because if I can be honest, while almost every fucking thing about retail was awful and dreadful and stress inducing....I miss my coworkers tremendously. I miss my friends who I will always consider family even if I no longer speak or see them. There is something about working in a shitty retail environment that creates a bond between the people that is impenetrable. It is Us (employees) Vs. Them (customers, corporate, managers) that inspires the same level of teamwork as an old school Field Day event.  My coworkers and I used to work in near perfect tandem because we liked working together and being around each other and supporting one another.

Someone having a bad day? We'd pill them with hugs and snacks from the vending machine and jokes until the person felt a little better. I once was so poor I couldn't afford lunch at le sad store, so my friend brought me sandwiches from home until our next pay period. When I offered to pay him back he was offended. It is the first time I have ever tackled someone with one of my hugs. Our friendships (all of them) were definitely messy, overwhelming, annoying and of course when we all started dating each other very incestuous but I am convinced it was the most authentic love I have ever had with my peers. We were a team in and outside of that store and anything less than that feeling of fidelity feels like a disappointment now. 

The next time you go to Target or Walmart or hell even that little clothing store in mall, look at how the employees interact with each other. Sure they are rude towards customers and flee in the other direction when the see a dumb question coming their way....but i bet your ass you will almost always see them smiling and laughing in interactions with each other. I'd put my next paycheck (not really, i have to get my car fixed) that they are friends and want to see each other outside of work. Retail teaches you about teamwork and camaraderie and dare i say...friendship the way it should be.

So yea, I don't miss the late hours or the low pay or the customers who think you are property along with the things your store is selling. But i miss the shit out of walking into work and checking the schedule to see if my favorite people are working with me. I miss walking into the break room and being greeted with "hellos' and "I missed you" and continuation of conversations that happened only hours later.  I miss looking over at one of my friends as a customer is acting a fool and sharing a look that only the two of us understand and will no doubt discuss in length afterwards. I miss my people, my tribe, my ride or dies and lifelong friends. I miss them painfully.

I bring this up because honestly outside of a handful of people at my current job, I loathe the majority of my co-workers. This isn't to say they aren't fine people but they aren't "my" people. They aren't watching great TV shows or reading interesting books of finding new and dope music they have to share immediately. They are investing in stocks, talking about mortgages ,placing illegal bets and playing a legitimate game called CORNHOLE during work hours. Do you want to know the point of the game? You throw a ball in a hole. That's it. They have spent hundreds of dollars betting each other on who can win the game. How do you even have enough money to place such bets? I have bills to pay and rent to pay and any extra money is not going towards winning or losing a game called Cornhole. It's going to Target.

And who would have thought that liking the people you spend more than 40 hours with throughout the week is super fucking important.  But holy shit it is almost pivotal to my work life balance....and happiness. Outside of the Matt fiasco my personal life is pretty okay. Sure, there could be improvements to my every day but for the most part I am in love with the baby steps I am making. Last week I went to Whole Foods (like an actual adult), purchased some healthy meals, stood in an indiscernible aisle and stared at the nutritional information on the back of the cookie box I was holding. I'd seen someone do this earlier is a more appropriate and less snack food aisle and I figured I'd mirror her actions too because this is what adulting is like. Though i walked out spending way to much on "organic" food there was something very mature about the whole trip. Only four years ago I was slaving away at le sad store, renting a room in some lady's house and buying frozen meals that couldn't adequately feed a toddler. And there I was on a Saturday in a Whole Foods that I drove to  in my own car buying food for my REFRIGERATOR to eat during the actual work week. Ya'll i have a fridge.

But there are only two days during the weekend and my organic cookies and almond milk can't make up for the fact that I spend the bulk of my time and life at a job that hate with people i'd openly ignore in public. And it's weeks like this when I am feeling extra nostalgic and homesick for my old life. I'd almost take another near asswhooping from a gal name Betsy too deep into her Alzheimer to realize I am not in fact her childhood rival as she manhandles me to the shock and fear and even amusement of my co-workers nearby. I'd relive that moment once again, just for the comfort of seeing my friend turned families contorted, anxious but familiar faces again that were as home to me as home gets.

Nice Girls Don't Finish On Top

I am unabashedly a nice girl and I am starting to think this title is doing nothing for my social life. Don't get me wrong, my mamma didn't raise no fool. I am not a pushover and have surprised many a people who thought my bite wasn't as big as my bark. I can be a fearless girl and I have not always been an incredibly nice woman when backed into a corners.

In high school I was angst filled and aloof to the point of coming off cold to my peers. Marie and I were queens of sulking and side-eyeing anyone who did us wrong and I was told more times that I can count to stop being "mean" to [insert names here]. When you are young, the moment you learn you are quick witted, it's hard to contain the sass. So even though I was a nice girl, I am also a smart ass to a fault. I said and did dumb things to prove points that didn't need proving. 

In college, I was hard-headed and stubborn. I was often accused of thinking I was "better" than my peers because of my disdain for commonality and small talk. Having anxiety didn't help disprove this misconception. I'm not going to lie, even with this blog detailing my most embarrassing years, I don't think I can stress enough how weird and awkward i was. Because I was really fucking awkward. I really didn't try enough to make friends  and was unable to openly just be myself like i craved....so I would come off as weird and brooding and full of tension, despite the fact that I was listening to Shawn Colvin on my CD player and reading romance novels in-between classes.

Being less anxious these last few years has definitely increased my self confidence and how i present myself to the world. I am still awkward but in a fumbling, comical and delicate way rather than mouth breathing, sweaty and off putting counterpart.  I am much too old to constantly worry what people think about me (as I write a post about what people may think about me. The irony is ever present) which has allowed me in many ways to be just be who I am without fear of embarrassment. But now that I am less anxious, the layers that have been stripped away just reveal that I am an incredibly kind and nice human being. And it's nauseating.

While I do have moments of sassiness and "bitch-like" bravado.  I am  your quintessential good girl. People NOW tend to find me adorable and relatable to a motherfucking fault (oh, and I curse a lot...which is probably not a good girl thing but whatever). I am called sweetheart by damn near everyone i met, children are not intimated by me and one time a dog feed me a treat. I wish I was kidding but perhaps thinking i was in need of it's care, my friends dog passed up her treat and brought it to me...as if she were doing me a favor. Le fucking sigh.

The problem is....because people mistake me for being a good girl, I am not often met with the same level of respect from men and and often infanticide by my some of my female peers. It doesn't matter that I can rap to Cardi B lyrics like a motherfucking boss or that i rehearse arguments in the shower on a regular basis (you must always be prepared)....at the end of the day, the secret about me is always at the surface. I am incredibly nice and soft which often comes across as naive, gullible and lacking experience.

And to be fair I am a fault for my nice girl image. I am the most accommodating person you will ever meet and I am not even admitting this fact to toot my own nice girl horn. I am annoyingly optimistic and never openly judgmental of anyone. People have admitted some weird shit to me but instead of shutting them down, I want to take the time to learn more about their interest.When I claim you as a friend I will go above and beyond to shower you with love and affection. And while this has it's benefits, I am also too trusting, too forgiving, too polite and thus susceptible to shitty people. It's as if my kindness lures them in and then WHAM, I have to go through another blocking spree because I cannot have such negativity in my life.

Today was that such day and another crushing realization as I went to Matt's FB page and Instagram page and blocked the crap out of him. I used to think blocking individuals was a un-good girl aspect of my personality but honestly it's a necessary tool for me to accept the end of something. Sometimes I do so out of a necessity (Sean and his family), other times the decision is hasty but still with my best interest at heart (Kathleen). Matt is a combination of both. Despite how shitty he has become, I am a person who forever holds on to what if. What if, he eventually comes around and realizes he has been treating me terribly because he is deeply in love with me. What if he has been ignoring me because life has become super busy but I am still at the forefront of his mind. What if he really does want to be my friend but just doesn't know how to be in my life they way I want friends to be in my life.

The problem is these "what if's" don't matter because they never came into fruition. If he wanted to be in my life, he would be and if he just wanted to be friends he wouldn't be a complete and utter asshat and towards the end he was less and less present but more of an asshat. So I blocked him. I removed myself from the situation. I packed my good girl qualities into a suitcase and sashayed out of the equation.

And while I feel okay about using my block powers to remove myself from the situation, I am beginning to worry about the relationship patterns I find myself in.  Cause it feels like an "Oops I did it again moment" but less cooler. I often connect with a people immediately.  We become inseparable and super reliant on each other and then before you know it the crazy starts. People tend to own my time and my space and want 100% access to me. And because I am a good girl I allow this even when I shouldn't. There were many times when Matt has said or done something inappropriately that I didn't call him on his shit because I didn't want to come across like a bitch. But I should have, thinking back on it.

I don't know how to stop being such a good girl but as I replay what has gone wrong in the past with friendship and romantic possibilities and my current falling out with Matt I can't help but think my niceness is a huge part of the problem. I come across as impenetrably delicate because I am impenetrably delicate so people take advantage and I let them. 

This doesn't mean I want to stop being a nice girl cause lets be real the idea of being unkind gives me all sorts of agita. I just feel like I need some alter ego, a non nice girl entity who comes out when i need her most. I need to go from Sandra Dee to "Sandy! asap because Sandra Dee is mocked and pilfered and almost always damn near feathered because of her nice girl ways.  You know how Beyonce created an alter ego called "Sasha Fierce" who takes over when she performs on stage? A sexier (as if she can get any sexier), Fiercer (as if she needs and fierce mojo) and more Dominant  (I bow to her willingly) persona? I need her.

Anytime, I am being excruciatingly nice, I need that bitch to put her stilettos heels down (bad bitches wear stilettos?) and stop me in my tracks. I need her to be more assertive and forthcoming and dare I say...even a little mean when it's appropriate. Because this nice girl stuff is no longer working in my favor. I just don't know if I have the energy to be Sasha Fierce when all i want to do is keep being me which includes a lot of annoying necessities and cat naps.

United States of Whatever

Our last (hopefully) snowstorm of the winter killed my car battery and I just spent an hour sitting in the lobby of Mavis while they restored my baby back to life.

As expected the lure of a snowstorm was quickly replaced by real world annoyance. Shoveling, bundling up, avoiding ice and trying to revive a dead battery. I attempted to call out of work the day after the snow storm because overnight the snow just turned into ice and I was worried about driving. My work from home day was pretty successful so I figured I could manage working from home again.

That idea was quickly shot down by my boss who seems not to like me personally but loves me professionally. It's hard to explain but as usual i'll try. He likes Patricia so much, I think he assumed no one would be able to replace her when she could no longer manage customer service and her new role in the company. Because of this he gave me the hardest time when I first started. He made snide critiques about how long it took me to learn something. He'd reprimand me via Patricia about minute details that i had little to no control over and once he got so agitated by my presence he spent 15 minutes talking to her about how i wouldn't measure up. This all occurred week one.

If you are wondering why I didn't quit then, it's because I was poor. I was struggling to pay my rent, struggling to feed myself, struggling to commute back and forth. I was sick of going on interviews and having to prove I was a competent and good worker.  Everything around me was falling apart: Sean, the bookstore, the university job, my health...so I took the first job that was offered to me and vowed to stick it out. I had no choice. So even after that first week where I was made to look like a complete and utter fool, even when my boss treated me like I did not belong there...i stuck it out.

Of course, I quickly proved that I was a good employee but  also much better at Patricia's job than she was. My boss and Patricia tried to continually find errors in my work only to come up with....nothing. Despite my anxiety and general discomfort with people, I excel at customer service. I like being helpful, I like resolving things. When given a task, I am willing to go above and beyond to complete it. So at work, I am a champion employee.

Patricia resents this because it makes her look dumb and my boss refuses to accept that he was wrong about me while also taking all the credit for how great of an employee I am. Because of this how he treats me vs. how he talks about me are two different things. I feel like I am in an emotionally abusive relationship. I am praised for my work, I am told how much of an asset I am but he always gives me shit if I take a day off and has reprimanded me for minor errors. If i make a spelling mistake or answer the phone a ring too late he expresses legit disdain.

On Friday he raised his voice at me because I wanted to handle a client situation in a way that would provide a permanent solution not a temporary one. He did not like this one bit and felt inconveienced when I offered a solution that would require more work then he is accustomed to. He didn't chew me out or yell at me, but he definitely raised his voice and attempted to put in my place which was unnecessary. This exchange happenned the day after my failed attempt to call out. He called me 10 minutes after I sent in my "i'm not coming to work today email" and offered to pay for my cab ride to and from work if i came in. "it's better if you are here" he begged and like an asshole, I went in.

I am frustrated by my job. It's is a poorly run, disorganized place that just happens to pay well. I am anxious to work anywhere else, especially since my skills are sort of exemplary. I like working, I like being useful, I like being good at something and because I am not so great at a lot of things, being a great employee has to suffice for now. But I am worried about the economy, I am worried about health insurance, I am worried about being laid off, I am worried about making a big change in this 'climate" and having things come crashing down suddenly.

I live in a perpetual state of real world anxiety. I am finally providing for myself and strengthening my skills. I am finally on the path to a healthy, stable life. But that seems up in the air now. I want to find a new job, a job that will turn into a career for me. I want to buy a home. I want to be in a committed relationship. I want to travel and see the world. And I can still do all of these things, sure, but it isn't without a level of complete and utter dread.

I never really understood how closely my quality of life was related to the stability of my country. But now I know and strongly believe that it is. I am afraid to make any moves in any direction because I am fearful of: war, economic collapse, isolationism, populism, racism. It's absolutely insane and yet here I am...unable to move. Paralyzed partially because of instability.

This summer my mom, brother and I are going to California. We've been planning this trip for a year. The tickets are purchased, the hotel booked and plans solidified. I am excited but also terribly nervous. I keep talking about the trip as if it isn't going to happen. As if some calamity will prevent us from heading out west in a few months. I hate that I live in this state of preparedness. That things are so bad I a) cannot appreciate the good (i'm going to California!) and b) that I am expecting things in the states to get worse.  Worse than they already are.

I have to find a way to channel my anxiety because right now it is paralyzing me. I am unable to take any of the big steps I finally feel prepared to take because of what is going on around me. But I want to miss out on opportunities: growth, love, adventure and hell even a new job because of things that are out of my control. I have to find a way to breathe and live while the world I know and love unravels.

We All Gotta be Marty McFly Right Now

Two days and I am still a mess. An inconsolable, red-eyed, comfort eating mess. I got all of two hours of sleep yesterday and literally went to work in an outfit that could have passed for pj's. I had the thousand yard stare of someone who'd seen battle, i was sullen and despondent. There were occasional murmurs from my colleagues about the election where they expressed  the same sort of shock and disbelief but not really understanding the totality of America's decision. My manager even had to nerve to joke that if we would have all voted this wouldn't have happened (ignoring the fact that he didn't vote). I fumed but was too exhausted by my lack of sleep to say anything back.

Despite Tuesdays outcome,  I am freaking proud of madame president. She was articulate, knowledgeable  and a fucking defender for all of us who have felt silenced in this country. I watched every debate, cried during the DNC and was so behind her as my commander in chief. The fact that she won the popular vote proves that half of the country was with her and her message as well. Knowing this doesn't make what happened any easier to accept but it is a small comfort I will take and cradle until January.

I can't help but admit that I am relieved that there are a lot of friends and family members who are equally as distressed about Biff being the next president of my united states. See what i did there, I refuse to write his name on my blog space. I will never write his name here. Someone today said he reminded her of Biff from Back to the Future and I realize that is where my primal discomfort about  him (among other discomfort) stems from.

I have always associated men like that as abrasive bullies. I have always avoided men like him because I feel threatened and scared of that form of masculinity. I did not personally know many Biff supporters and the few that were vocal about it also showed themselves to be also be sexist or racist and were quickly shut down and de-friended.  While I don't think all Biff supporters are awful, I guess I can understand (a little) how any person could gravitate to that form of masculinity. I gravitated to that form of masculinity when Marie died.

I lost someone very important to me  and my security felt threatened once she was gone. I was under attack emotionally and mentally and  was afraid of everything and everyone. When Sean offered me  support, I readily soaked it up because I didn't want anyone feeling sorry for me. He was always saying stupid things and doing stupid things and had so little filter, it was nice to be around because it distracted me from my sadness. I would cry or have a break down and he would let me take out my frustration on him. Like physically and emotionally because he said he was strong enough for that.  I realize now he was just a sociopath who felt no pain and never took responsibility for anything.

But that brand of masculinity only went so far. It was attractive and alluring and you bet your ass when he offered me his muscly chest to sleep on I was all for that type of masculinity. But when I began to heal as a person he did not possess the basic goodness that made us compatible. I simply didn't need him to just be this body I could do bad things with. I wanted a supportive, helpful, considerate partner that could help me rebuild what I lost. I ideally needed a Mr. Darcy in my life but I went for the bully in Karate Kid. And the moment it became apparent that what I needed from him was vastly different from what initially drew me to him(a receptive body I could do good things with), his masculinity turned on me and I am still recovering from the fallout of that.

I once did a paper on masculinity because it has always fascinated me. Women are allowed to be soft and hard beings. Of course when you are too soft you are considered defenseless and when you are too hard you are considered a bitch but we can still vacillate between both versions of femininity. I always got the impression that men cannot do this. If you are too soft you are immediately emasculated and if you are too hard you can be revered and despised...at the same time. 

I recognize that that form of male-ness is what also got Biff elected. In a nation griped by various fears his abrasiveness was not an immediate turn off for some. Instead it epitomized to them the essence of authority. I doubt that he will actually be able to provide comfort and reassurance to our country in times of need. I can't imagine any future addresses to the country where he is able to express sorrow and unity. I instead expect what usually ends up being the case with most men like that...impotence and the inability to follow through. All bark and no bite.  All muscly chest but no beating heart.

I feel a little better today than I did yesterday but as someone who always plans ahead this moment in history feels like a turning point for me. I understand that Biff will be in office come January, I understand that that could mean a lot of citizens basic human-ness will be at risk.  I recognize that a lot of people are scared and uncertain and filled with the same anxiety that has crippled me since Tuesday. But this is a good thing, right? That there are a lot of me's out there wondering what happens next and are ready to step up and do something about it. What I have seen in history is that when good people sit out and don't speak out against injustice people suffer (and Biff's are elected into office). So maybe this moment in history is supposed to be a turning point, maybe this is when the change we have slowly been working towards needs to be louder and made clearer to the silent majority.

I am not so worried about my own stakes and claims post this election. I can handle whatever shit is thrown my way but I worry more about my family in the south, I worry a lot about my LGBTQ friends and my lady friends and my proud immigrant friends. I am most worried about the individuals who feel like there voice was completely silenced Tuesday and I just can't potentially go through the next four years sitting by idly if Biff (or his supporters) try to antagonize and suppress them.

Of course all I have now is the energy and determination. I am not really sure how to be of help but I am mobilizing and taking notes and I plan to get as involved as possible. Dr. Who mentions that there are fixed points in history that cannot be re-written but it doesn't mean that in those fixed points individuals can't still make a difference.

If This Were Pretty in Pink...

I am not the greatest decision maker. It's just fact. I have, in the past, mulled over decision for days and weeks before making up my mind and even then I am not 100% sure i've made the right one.

Lately most of my decision making involves food: what do i want to eat for dinner, what should i pack for lunch, should i throw out this stale bread or save it to feed the birds at the pond near my house. And even then, i can't readily decide the best outcome for myself, so instead, i'll go to bed hungry or throw cookies in my sandwich container instead of making lunch or keep the stale bread until their is mold and neither I nor the birds can eat it.

I am terrified of making the wrong choice. I am terrified and yet always filled with regret some how and paralyzing indecision. My mom says it's because I spend to much time with sliding door scenarios. Instead of just accepting the path my decision will take me on and dealing with it as I go along, I consider every minute detail until I have driven myself into a frenzy.

Today has been one of those days.

Two weeks I didn't even have one job offer and today I suddenly two. During my week of job interviews I interviewed for a really small  construction company (6 people in total) that is literally around the corner from my house and that pays significantly more than Justin's GF job. It was long shot that i'd even get this gig because I am super under qualified and I do not have a car (which is something he seemed to stress). The obvious perk was of course the fact there be'd no transportation and the pay was well over my asking price.

He said he would make a decision by the end of the week (last week) but that he liked me and would be in contact as soon as he talked to some other candidates. But then Patricia contacted me and invited me to her office and she was so fucking excited about me working with her and to be honest I was fucking excited as well.

Since quitting Le Sad Store and ending things with Sean my life is pretty depressing these days. The town I live in is adorable but I have not met anyone my age to hang out with and honestly I am sort of seeking companionship. The long-term sort of one. My friend Heather and Kat are the only two people I see/talk to regularly (outside of my mom) and it often feels like I am in seclusion. Kat implemented a pj/movie night at my apartment every Friday which at first was fun until I realized that everyday at my house with or without Kat is pj/movie night. I have no social life, little to no human interactions with peers and the highlight of my week once was that I marathoned a whole season on Law and Order over the weekend never once taking off my pj's.

So while the pay and lack of transportation were appealing at first, I realized the construction job would also in some way enable this solitary existence. I would crawl out of bed, go to work, be in charge of running all the administrative duties of a small company and then return home after an 8 hour day to spend by myself. Kat disagreed of course. She said being close to home would give me more time to do things failing to see that I do not have anyone to do things with. Heather disagreed as well lamenting that I would have money so who the hell cares about being alone.

I did not throw in their faces that they were both born and raised here. That they are surrounded daily by family members, friends and boyfriends. They both live rent free with their significant others and are constantly doing things outside of their job which compensates for how much they both dislike their jobs.  Sure they complain about loneliness as well but I don't think they truly really know what it looks and feels like to be lonely. I sometimes forget what my name sounds like outside of my own voice because no one ever says it. I have gone days without talking to people and when I have reached out I feel pitiful and then pitied.

I guess this is something i have not readily admitted to myself or other people but it is a factor that has made the last few months unbearably sad. Not only do i feel secluded geographically but mentally and emotionally. I miss intimacy and no amount of money can replenish the loss.

So when the job with Patricia opened up I was excited on many levels. I hand't heard back from the construction company yet, there were mad cuties where she works and the salary is exactly what I wanted (minus my traveling expenses of course which would be about 5 dollars a day). But the main factor was that it would allow me to interact socially with a diverse group of people in a new town. Coming home would feel just as so...coming home. Home being a place I enjoy and want to retreat too when the real world hasn't been kind. Lately home has been a jail cell where I return to because I am not fit for human interaction.

There was little to no hesitation when she called a few hours after my interview to offer me the job. Partly out of financially desperation but mainly from the standpoint that I wouldn't be working alone. Since receiving the good news I have been on a high! I finally, after six years, have a full time job! I will soon be able to afford things! I will also be able to make friends! office friends but still friends!

And then....the construction company called this morning, left a voicemail and offered me the higher paying job. I was hoping they wouldn't call so the decision was placed out of my hands but life has a way, even when things are going well, to kick sand in your face.

 I called my mom, I called Heather, I called Kat in a damn near frenzy. I already accepted one job (which I plan to start Thursday) I couldn't suddenly go back on my commitment just because the one that pays more money shows an interest right? Kat and Heather both thought i was crazy for even mulling over the decision: take the one with more money, right around the corner, I [Kat] can now come to  your house right after work because you live down the street and we can watch more tv. I [insert Heather] can now visit you during your lunch break because I work in the same town. But I [insert Beckett] am not quite convinced that more money will make up for how unhappy I am. Sure it will allow me to buy more things and come home super early after work...but that's it. That's all. And at the end of the day that is the last thing I want.

The construction job is the Blaine to Patricia's Duckie job (pretty in pink reference to anyone who hasn't seen it but seriously everyone has seen this movie right). And while Molly Ringwald eventually choose Blaine, I'd rather take my chance on Duckie, just for now you know. With this being my first real full time job where I will regardless make more money than I ever have I also want the perk of meeting people.

For love or money I have surprised myself by recognizing I am a person who prefers love over the luxury of money. And in this case 'love' is possibility. It is risk. It is choosing my needs over my wants.