written on Thursday, Apr. 24, 2003 at 8:28 p.m.
Day off. Day off tomorrow. Day off day off day off.
I love it.
My entire day was dotted with snarky customers. And snarky bosses. All 9 hours of it.
Thank GAWD it's over.
* * *
Boy was telling me about something Hockey Temper said. They were sitting at work, laughing about the patheticness of going to their 10 year reunions someday and saying "Um, yeah, I work at [grocery store]. I'm a stock boy." HT laughed and said "Man, where the hell is my life going?"
Although it wasn't necessarily meant to be a heavy comment, it was. It made me think. I hate thinking.
I go through these phases once in a while. I sit back and say, God... we're in our mid-20s, Boy has a degree. I haven't made it through school. We both work in retail. Is this as good as it gets? Right now, it looks that way.
That's skeery. I mean, fucking scary. I fear psychics. I'm afraid they'd say "Yes, you will retire in 30 years from retail. And so will your spouse. After a full life of being treated like shit by henpecking customers."
Gah! There has to be something else.
I need to think. I need to think a LOT. And I need a plan. A good one.
Forgive me if this entry isn't even mildly witty or entertaining. In fact, it's probably quite boring. Feel free to close this window and take a nap instead.
I've always read making a plan helps you see what's important. See the big picture. And so on and other trite things.
I think I need to do that. Not now. My brain is too muddled. But tomorrow. Yes, that is my first plan -- tomorrow I will make a plan.
Love,
