Hey all. Wow. I disappeareded huh? (Intentional extra E and D.) Trust me, I know it's long but this one is important. You'll want to read it.
So since I've been gone here's what's happened. Will still hasn't found a job or apt. No one wants someone at his level, they all want someone with more experience, like executives. No newbies.
I DID get a job. Which I hate. Passionately. It's the worst job I probably could have gotten. I work for a gift shop at one of those entertainment places. Like Six Flags, Disney, Sea World, just not quiet so big. So all day long I get screaming kids, which is actually the good part.
The bad part is... (deep breath)
My manager is a bitch, my female co-workers are gossipy hens, my male co-workers don't even belong there, either because they're overqualified or under qualified, I get paid just above minimum wage, my hours are insane (ie I worked one night until just before midnight and then opened the next morning at nine), I'm officially the store bitch, I do all the work and get very little credit, I work my ass off and when I don't I get yelled at, I'm physically and mentally exhausted, and did I mention I didn't even get trained, I basically got left in the store to fend for myself, it took two days for my manager to even set me up so I could run the cash register, and three weeks for her to set up my pay (that was yesterday, I'm getting paid Friday) and that I hate 90% of my co-workers?
So yeah. I'm looking for another job.
But to the point of why I needed to write. About work. Thank god I've never mentioned I have a blog there's probably some dumb ass rule I'm breaking even mentioning I work at a gift shop on here. Well, fuck 'em, my blog, I bitch here.
So there's this chick at work... Who I despise with a passion. She's the kind of person you KNOW what a cheerleader as soon as you see her. She gives you this look and it's like she's cutting you to the bone; you are instantly degraded and belittled by her stare. Her smile is insanely fake. (As is her orange... er... tan.) She's everything I despise in women. She's as fake as it gets and loves to pretend she wants to be your friend. I am extremely wary of her. I watch my mouth very closely, I know she's the type to stab me in the back.
Anyway... I was folding shirts with her and one of the girls who is my "supervisor." She brought up my boyfriend and asked how we met. I was honest, I said online. They both groaned and flinched. Then asked how online. Again I was honest, message board. I followed up with a we've been together for years, and he moved here in May just to be closer.
They both raised their eyebrows but I could tell the she-devil was plotting how to use this information to her advantage.
Here's the thing.
I cared what they thought.
What... the... hell...
Why should I care what the bimbo thinks of me, and although I get along well with my supervisor, we're certainly never going to be best buds. We're nice to each other because we have to be and we have almost the same level of maturity.
I don't like getting personal with people I work with. Period. I don't need to know all your dirty laundry and you sure as hell don't need to know mine.
But I've discovered something rather disturbing. I HATE working with women. I do. I really really do. Maybe it's just the women here, but I can't stand the cattiness, the snide comments, the fake smiles and the painted over viper like stabs.
All the guys I work with I generally like. The assistant manager isn't qualified, but he's a generally nice guy, not so easy to work with but that's because he's not reliable.
My other supervisor, who I generally consider so, I really do love working with. He's the only reason I didn't quit after the first day. Which I really was prepared to do. But he's five years older and generally acts big brotherly with me. He's patient showing me how things are done, and understanding when I do something wrong. He's friendly with the men, gentle and teasing with the kids, and sweet and silly with the women. He has great merchandising skills, and his managerial skills are better than anyone I've met in a long time. He's excellent in sales. He's someone I genuinely admire. Not to mention his wife is beautiful and their baby is one of the sweetest happiest little boys I've ever met.
Then there's the guy that I'm pretty sure just quit today because of one of our catty ladies at work. She's just a lovely loud mouthed bitch, I can't understand why he'd quit when she's done everything possible to make his life hell. He's still very much a kid, a little irresponsible, not to motivated to do everything he could at work. But he's polite, does what's asked of him generally with no complaint, and he's excellent with the little kids. He's otherwise friendly, although immature.
But here's the thing... Every single guy I can talk to and make work... well... work. I don't get tense with them or stressed. I don't feel my stomach sink when I think about having to work that day with them. It's actually somewhat of a pleasure to work with the guys.
I've just been sitting here mulling work over and I don't understand a lot yet. I don't understand the need for drama in a place that doesn't need to have it. I don't understand the childishness or the immaturity. I just don't understand why I care what ANY of these people think of me. I really can't anymore. It makes no sense to care. I could only use my male supervisor as a reference anyway, the manager doesn't exactly like me much.
i don't like that the women in work try and make things personal. They ask about my life, and I really don't want to talk about it with them. The only woman I like working with, well we both talk rather personally. I don't like laying myself out to be judged by people whose opinions matter so little. I don't like making work personal. Keep your dirty laundry to you, and I'll take care of my own. Let's leave the drama at the door huh ladies?
Oh and Icelanders are the best tourists EVER! Just had to throw that out there too lol
If I've typoed a lot I'm sorry. It's 2AM and I've been up since 8:45AM. I'll have to beg forgiveness on this one for any weirdness. I know it's not my finest.