Will Work for Food

TGIF. Good Lord, I mean it.

And I've only worked two days this week, so how does that compute? No, correction, I've worked one day and am gearing up to start the second. The last thing I want to do it lie to you all, good people. I've had it up to here with this place, and last Friday I said that with an absolute certainty. It was weird, there was this sort of ping! sound, then my brain said that if I never come back here to work again, it will still be alright. A wave of peace washed over me and for one glorious moment I was truly happy with a decision. 'Tis a shame these moments are few and far between.

My boss forgot to pay me. Again. She doesn't make use of my skills, she shoves me on the counter and people, customer service is not one of my strengths, especially when dealing with snotty-nosed punks. She reduced my hours to 25 per week and my pay went right along with it. So I made a decision: I will search for new work like I've never searched before.

Before, I used to browse the websites like monster.ca and workopolis.com with an eye to something that would advance my career. Bwah! What career? My resume reads like a Mennonite quilt. I've resigned myself to accepting that I will act in the capacity of someone's buttmonkey and probably will have to go back to wearing hose. That was the one good thing about working at the college: being able to dress like a student. Comfort above all else. Hell, there were times during mass releasing of loans that I wore my tearaways to work.

Maybe there's something at the University?