Thursday, August 4, 2011

Dr. JiminyCricket: Or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Calling Off


I suppose it's apparent now that I'm desperate to get out of my workplace hell. I'll try or do anything. As much as my moral code and beliefs are centered around Disney, I've never been one to truly believe in the fantastical or superstitions. Well, besides in hockey. I was taught at a very young age that all of those superstitions are the honest to God truth, my shirts still start to smell around playoff time. Nevertheless, I took some advice from Jiminy Cricket and wished upon a star. I gathered all my belief inside of me and thought about my wish. I looked up at the sky and got about halfway through my wish when I saw a shooting star. Some people would take that as a sign. However, I was aghast and ran inside because I felt like I had just made a star commit suicide. Rest in peace, little twinkle twinkle. I just hope you weren't the star guiding little Feivel home.

I was hoping my little celestial friend didn't give his life in vain, but now I fear he did. If only he didn't interrupt me and let me finish my wish. I don't want to reveal what I wished for, just in case. OK, so maybe I am little superstitious. Let's just say it involved jobs and the first part was what I don't want/ where I don't want to be and the second half involved a certain "star" who is soon getting a "care package" from me that I would very much like to work for and whose book I am currently reading. Draw your own conclusions. Oh, and my dad would be proud. I believe this still falls in the wish making guidelines.

Not sure how this correlates with my wish, but a few odd things happened the past few days. They say when it rains, it pours. Sometimes it's a good thing, sometimes pouring rain really messes up your plans. After almost a year without a call or a rejection letter, I get two interviews in one week. It also happened to be the week that I worked the most hours at my lovely hell hole of a job. Now, with another large bill added on top of my student loan payments...and rent... and bills... and the Netflix addiction (an Australian show about teenage mermaids, you say? Yes, I will sit and watch it hours on end), I really needed another job. But on the other hand I needed to not get fired from my current minionship. I've already called off a few times this year, so going in late was my best option. Even though I hate the job, I do like most of the people I work with- even a manager or two and I get a bit of anxiety when I feel like I'm letting people down. So of course calling off work makes me a bit antsy- even if it is for a job I hate. But every now and then a "sick day" is needed for one's sanity. Which is why I probably should have just not gone in instead of driving my Cavy 90 miles per hour across town to make it to work at a reasonable time. Luckily I think a lot of the police are a bit tied up with nanananana Batman! so hopefully my traffic violations will go unchecked for a bit longer. They did put up "estimated time to downtown" signs.... My 1999 Cavy, aka "Danny," aka "Lightning McQueen" will accept that challenge.

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