I need another job. Even working five days at Dock 2 isn’t enough to keep up with rent, gas, and groceries (and my numerous impulse home goods purchases from work — I’m trying to limit them, okay?). With school and everything, I really don’t think I’m going to have time for a second job unless I want to sacrifice what little Me Time I have. I don’t want to but with my savings dried up and my recurring nightmare of spending $32 at Target, I don’t exactly have a choice. Mom says I should get back into the food service industry — this time as a waitress — but I’m not entirely sure I’m cut out for that. I think it’s the idea of carrying those big trays that scares me. Maybe I’ll find a job at a very small cafe or something. That would make me more open to serving, I think.
Well, whatever I decide to look for, I can only hope it’s better paying than Dock 2. With a better client base, and less rich white women complaining about anything and everything.
Wish me luck,
P.S. To keep my sanity, I’m starting this blog instead of a diary. I hear journaling is good for mental health, and although I have a plethora of notebooks waiting to be used, I can’t stand the pressure to have nice handwriting all throughout — so the internet it is. I can at least keep up with most of my thoughts when I type. And believe you me, I have a lot of thoughts.