23rd year picked me up like a whirlw....

Hi. Wow, it's been awhile, hasn't it?

Of my handful of dedicated readers, I'm sure at least one of you felt concerned about my absence and an explanation is deserved. I guess I felt rather concerned about the direction things one area of my life was going and wanted some time to just focus on that and let time pass. I was hoping that by now I'd be telling you: Hey! Guess who's getting 30 hours a week as a poker dealer now, whatwhat?!

Nope, I didn't quite correctly gauge the time it would take to master picking winning poker hands with no prior experience. However I do plan to seek employment at Lucky Bridge and hope to God they put me on somewhere so I can A. Continue to learn poker and be in that environment and B. ..Be with Travis, who you guys don't know about right now. . . will go into that later.

I'm putting on my makeup to meet Travis's boss at the Casino this afternoon. I plan to deliver two resumes: One for a server position and one as a cashier. Being a cashier paying out winnings would be totally awesome but I'd be great as a server as well and it earns tips.

I'm getting ready back and forth as I write this so I will post the transformation here.

Here's me with hair half blow dried and only liquid foundation. I look pasty and kinda greasy from the moisturizer I'd put on.

I'm of course more determined than ever to get the ball rolling with this because by this upcoming Friday I will technically be *un*employed again! (gasp!!) I know right?! It's okay, it was more than over for me at Little Caesers by now. I think the fact that I could no longer stand my job kept me from writing too, because oftentimes after shifts I'd come home, drink and.... might not have much nice to say on a blog at the moment.

When I turned 23 on the first of this month I almost couldn't believe it. I felt I'd done my best with my 22nd year but also thought about how much I am going to need to learn and strive for this year. I'm getting older. People around me that are my age are getting married or having children. I'm really only interested in making money and learning every God damn thing I can squeeze out of my classes at Central to prepare me for the real world that has a tendency to either kick people's ass or make it the greatest time of your life in early adulthood depending on your preparedness.

Makeup brushes out in the car. Oh well, get it later. Hair blow-dried, foundation matted but no color.... 

I started hating my job at Little C's for a number of reasons. One, I was constantly being reprimanded, about anything you can think of, by the female managers and a handful of people I worked with.. It put me on eggshells big time because I felt like I couldn't do anything right there. But at the same time I know a lot of the things they were critiquing me on were either extremely minor in regards to the final product (like stacking the sheet outs the "wrong direction" for the person next to me to stretch them, or not turning on the faucet a certain way while I was doing the dishes-- just an accumulation of stupid shit like that) or weren't even my fault in the first place (like someone made a stack of bad sheet-outs and I get blamed for not being able to stretch them right.

And no, I'm not saying I didn't make mistakes there. I made a pretty good amount of them, especially when I was trying my hardest at dressline because I rarely gave myself a chance to work there. Like I went to work thinking if I did just sheet outs and dishes it'd be cool, but it got super redundant and I started to hate it really quick. This last month I did make a little more effort to work at other stations but would always hate it because I would forget and screw up at little things on dressline like which cup to use for a certain meat on a certain pizza..... and get caught. And feel stupid because yes I've been working there for a few months now.

Anyway, my last straw there was my Friday shift. For me and the management (and the management with me, lol). I had driven from Travis's house to Benton City and back to get ready after dealing poker at the Tin hat the previous night. It was a good night but I was exhausted. I came into work about ten minutes late, and I can't say that was the first time in the last week considering how stretched I felt on time lately with accounting and trying to learn poker with Travis. Rita pulled me outside and gave me a 20 minute rant about how I'm too slow, have a "snarky" attitude, and that she had "people complaining" about me.

 I'm like wow, I'm shocked to hear that you think I have an attitude... I try to rarely talk to anyone and usually wore earplugs at work to avoid hearing other people's conversations because I found it annoying when 90% of it was in loud Spanish. Of course I did always say it was because of my anxiety which was also true. The "people complaining" was identified as "other management" so it no longer concerned me. I always knew my male manager thought I was cool so I knew my suspicions that my other manager didn't like me were then identified. Not surprising what-so-ever.


So here I am sitting with all this new insight and wondering whether or not to go back into work or fold my hand and get the hell out of there. Rita told me she was going to "put the ball in my court" and I agreed to try harder but was admittedly pretty shook by it. I was nervous of what the consequences would be, however, if I came home at 2:45 pm saying I quit my job on a Saturday when my Dad was home. I stuck it out.

My final decision to quit there was made the next day when I saw the schedule and noticed I was scheduled for a whopping 5 hours this week. Okay, you've successfully pushed me out the door, I was more than ready to go anyway. Thanks for the paychecks.

The face I made at work a lot because I was so bored I could rip my hair out by the end. 

So it's very nice to say I'm now out of that place and am feeling more determined than ever to facilitate a comfortable transition to employment elsewhere.

peace.