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A Twisted Day In The Life Of...
Anenigma
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Geek In Black
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Mark Pickerel
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This is turning out to be a very profitable weekend.
S, the friend that was teaching me how to drive, sent me an email earlier asking if I still wanted to sell my recorder. He told me he sold his vintage Cadillac yesterday and peeled my $750 off of his $13,000 wad of car-sale cash. That he was carrying in his pocket. When I asked him about it, his response was, "I have a gun."
He asked me if I had gotten my license yet, and I told him my plan to attend a driving school here in town. He's friends with the woman who runs the driving school and asked her how much it would cost if he paid her to teach me how to drive since he's too busy lately. She quoted him $160, which is $140 less than if I were to take care of it on my own. Sweet deal, eh?
Another friend had called me on Friday and asked me if I wanted to earn some money this weekend. I agreed before he even told me what I would be doing.
There's a coffee shop here in town that's been pretty innovative for Cle Elum. They brought a little slice of the city to our small middle-of-nowhere town, and their most recent endeavor is an artisan's market in the empty lot next door to their building. So far, it's very small and mostly consists of people selling some type of food or drink, but I think that if they can get it going it will be a good step in the right direction.
"It's easy work. You just have to stand around and take money."
I was not sure what I would be taking money for, but I wanted in.
It turned out to be a produce stand.
When I set up the tables with various fruits and vegetables, I set them up the way that just made sense to me. I put the produce crates on their sides to show off the product, and created a tiered riser to make the most of the space and present the gorgeous mangos and bell peppers to people passing by. The boss, we'll call him Chicago, commented that my setup was much better than the one from the day before. Several other people also commended my design capabilities. Chicago was so impressed by my display and my suggestions for how he can go about selling more without charging less, that I've been invited back tomorrow, and was rewarded with $70 cash for 7 hours' work. Now, I used to wait on Chicago at DBC so I know he's generous, but I was not expecting to make $10 an hour to just stand around and try to coerce people into buying bunches of wilting leeks for 75 cents each. I'm hoping that this will turn into a regular arrangement and I can tell Safeway that I have a weekend job and they can no longer schedule me for Saturdays or Sundays, considering I made about twice as much money today as I make on my average shift at Safeway, and I didn't have to clean up after any disgusting tourists.
So, I have $800 burning a hole in my pocket. I got my phone bill squared away last week (did I already post that here?) and paid the $75 down payment on my camera, so $190 of my bank roll will finish paying it off on Tuesday, and the rest will be put into the neighbor's fender. If I'm lucky, the fender will only be $400 and I'll have the $160 to start my driving lessons immediately.
It's been a long holiday weekend for me, and I've spent a lot of time working hard, but overall I feel really great. Am I sickening you yet?
Don't forget to see what's new on my photo blog and Party In My Pants!
After my delightful chat with my phone company yesterday I weighed my options. Pay my bill via money order like usual, have it get there on the 3rd, and be without my phone for two days? Pay my bill via Western Union's Quick Collect and pay an arm and a fucking leg, but have my balance zeroed out within twelve hours? As much as it killed me, since I intend to put the $75 down payment on my camera in the morning and my $180 check minus my $110 phone bill plus the Western Union fees does not equal 30% of $249.99, I opted for Western Union.
I cashed my paycheck on my lunch break today and filled out the Swift Pay form. The grey one. The woman I spoke to yesterday said something about a grey form, so I didn't pay any attention to the name of the document I was completing, just the color. It wouldn't work, so I called Sprint to verify that my account number was right and such. They said it was.
"Are we using the right form? This is Swift Pay." The cashier asked after I returned to the counter.
"Oh." I said. "I don't know. I thought they said something about 'quick', but they also said the right form was grey."
"Well, try filling out a Quick Collect form."
I did. The information it asked for made more sense, and all seemed to be going well until they got to the city code. The girl I spoke to on the phone told me that the city code was 'Sprint'.
When the girl behind the counter punched in 'Sprint' as the city code, the only option that appeared was 'Sprint Long Distance'. I have Sprint PCS cell phone service, so my account number was rejected. I called Sprint for the third time in less than an hour. This time I asked to speak to a supervisor.
I explained my situation and asked if he could just extend the shut-off date by a few days to allow time for my money order to be received and processed, and he obliged. Well, more or less. He applied a temporary credit to my account for $35, more than enough to cover the past due balance. It is invalidated in ten days, so I have that long for my money order to get there.
This made me very happy, as it was looking like the fee for sending with Western Union would be upwards of $20. I'll be putting that $75 down on my camera tomorrow.
Don't forget to see what's new on my photo blog and Party In My Pants!
Kevin's roommate Brett texted me this morning to wish me a happy birthday.
"How old are you?" He asked. "24? 25?"
I was quite impressed that he remembered.
Even if my birthday's not until June 27.
Thanks Brett! It's the thought that counts!
Don't forget to see what's new on my photo blog and Party In My Pants!
I had to call my phone company this morning because apparently there’s a past-due amount and they’re threatening to shut me off. I was forwarded to a very efficient, brisk woman with a very heavy Spanish accent. I don’t believe that my phone company has outsourced their customer service department yet, but fat lot of English-speaking good that does me. The last several times I’ve had to call them I’ve spoken to someone whose communication skills are sub-par, and that’s including the ones that do speak clear, fluent English. I don’t have a problem with people who speak another language, I have a problem with people who are hired to help English-speaking customers and barely have a grasp of the language themselves. I also have a problem with people who do speak English, but are too thick-headed to grasp the concepts that I'm trying to run by them. Both of these things can lead to long, frustrating, circular conversations.
Anyway, I called to see if I sent payment tomorrow I could avoid my service being shut off. Usually if you tell them that the check is in the mail they will make a note on your account and give you a few extra days for it to get there.
“Would you like to pay over the phone today, ma’am?” She asked me.
I informed her that I have no way to pay over the phone, to which her response was, “I see Bank of America checking account here. You would like to pay with that?”
I was confused. I do not have a Bank of America checking account, nor have I ever used someone else’s Bank of America checking account to pay my phone bill. I told her this.
“Well, it’s there.” She said.
Through the entire phone call, she kept interrupting me, and didn't seem to listen to anything I said. This pissed me off. All I wanted to know was when my service was going to be suspended and if I could buy (figuratively speaking, of course) a little extra time. I have a feeling that Sprint’s customer service department is paid more if they get people to pay over the phone because nobody that I’ve ever talked to there has just let it go when I say, “No. I cannot pay over the phone.”
Eventually she told me that mailing payment was not advised, because it could take 7 to 10 business days to post to my account and if payment were not received by June 1st, I would be disconnected until the full amount was received. Now, I’ve NEVER had it take more than 5 business days for a money order to be posted to my account. I told her this.
"I cannot tell you that it only takes 5 days, ma'am, because they tell me 7 to 10 and that is what I know."
All I wanted to know was how many days away the first was, considering their text message (which was very considerate, as I have not been notified the last three times they’ve suspended my service for whatever reason. I just try to make a phone call and the damn thing’s shut off. Yes, I’m a bad bill pay-er.) was sent at 8:30 in the fucking morning and I don’t happen to have a calendar in bed with me.
“I don’t recommend that, ma’am. If you mail payment it will take 7 to 10 days to post to your account.”
Right. She already told me that. I was starting to feel like this woman was being condescending. She doesn’t get paid to judge me. She gets paid to tell me how and where to get my money to her company for services rendered, and to maybe half-assed help me with any technical problems I may be having. I guess the judgment is just an added bonus.
I expressed my concern over having someone else's financial information on my account, adamant that I had only ever paid with money orders, and once with cash at a Sprint store because I happened to be in Seattle where I could actually find one.
"It's there," she repeated. "I don't know what to tell you. You maybe paid many time ago and you forget."
I'm frustrated with her customer-serving style, which by this point I attributed less to her language skills, her comprehension of English actually being pretty good, and more to her being a bitch (the constant interruption being the key factor in this decision). I give up, sarcastically thank her, and hang up.
But not before she rattles off something that I don't understand, partly because perfectly normal things people say lately have been sounding like gibberish to me (probably a cognitive problem caused by my MS) and partly because I was still not fully awake. Whatever she said ended with, "Thank you, Miss Eryn. Have a good day."
Now, it's 9:33 AM and I cannot fucking sleep. Happy Thursday.
Don't forget to see what's new on my photo blog and Party In My Pants!
This morning as I was leaving for work I was plotting in my head what I would post in my blog tonight when I got home. It had to do with some comments on my entry regarding religion, but now I can't remember anything I was going to say. Except that my grandmother isn't dead. Well, not the one that I mentioned praying for. She's very much alive, and still sick.
She's been sick for the last 15 years, and a slew of doctors cannot figure out what's wrong with her but still manage to prescribe things like Morphine and Xanax and Ritalin to fix her up. The Ritalin, by the way, was prescribed by three different doctors at once to counteract the huge doses of Morphine that ensured she would remain comatose even while sitting on the toilet in the middle of the night. It also ensured that my war-hero of a grandfather had plenty of access to drugs with which to poison her enough to make her believe that she had spiders crawling from sores on her arms. She got away from him for about six months, checked herself into a nuthouse, and eventually went back to him. I haven't heard from her in six years, but I feel assured that if she were dead someone would have told me.
Oh, also, Anonymous commentor, I don't feel bitter because some God smited me with Multiple Sclerosis. I'm very aware that things could be worse, and I never once in my rant about religion said that I didn't believe in God because I have a disease that could very well rob me of my livelihood somewhere down the line. I'm actually pretty much at peace with the MS. Right now it's not that bad, and I'd like to believe that it will stay that way, and even if it doesn't, there's always someone who has it worse than I ever will. I stopped believing in God long before I ever had my first MS symptom. Please don't fill in my blanks for me. :)
I'm cranky today. Ask Kevin. He'll tell you.
Don't forget to see what's new on my photo blog and Party In My Pants!
I've been eating a Grapple a day, since their sale price has been dropped another $0.50 since I bought the first four-pack. If they stay cheap, I might just start the 3-Apple-A-Day Diet.
I spent a few hours at Radio Shack last night, keeping Jessica company while she worked late to serve coffee to a Bible study group. I fell in love with this digital camera and I'm going to put it on layaway at the end of the week. If I put down $50-75 a week toward the $250 price tag, I should have it in my hands within a month, and still be able to put money away to finish the repairs on the neighbor's car and get my bills paid.
Someone sitting at the counter with me last night mentioned that they don't go to a church, they go to several churches. I made an off-hand comment that when I was younger I had three or four different churches that I would go to, and as far as religion goes, I never understood why it was a problem that I never picked just one church to go to. I figured that God would be happy that I was going to church, and he wouldn't be picky about which building housed my prayer and worship. It was not such a good idea to bring up that subject amongst people who meet on a Saturday night to pray.
My simple comment sparked one man's interest like a wildfire in a drought. The mere mention that i used to go to church seemed to be enough to encourage him that with just a little badgering I'd be hurrying back into the fold. He said that he didn't "believe" that I'm agnostic. And he's right. I said agnostic because I felt like "atheist" was too strong a word to use in that particular place at that particular time. I did not want their Bible study to become a recruitment meeting with me as their subject.
Don't get me wrong, I'm respectful of other people's religions. It's just when they try to force said religion upon me that I start to not like it. I know who I am. I am not the type of person to accept an idea blindly because a book says that I should. I was religious for years, looking for any proof that there might be a God. But for the twelve years I attended the same church, nobody could ever answer my questions, my sick grandmother never got better when I would pray for her, and I saw a lot of hipocrisy and judgment within a congregation that preached acceptance. I decided that God was not for me, and neither is the pity that churchgoers feel when they hear that I do not believe. I am not "lost", I do not need to "find my way". And I certainly do not need to spend my Saturday nights debating these facts with people who have no idea who I am.
Don't forget to see what's new on my photo blog and Party In My Pants!
While perusing the stats for The Things We Put In Our Mouths, I noticed a spike in readership on May 10th. Neither Kevin nor I has posted an entry since right after we put it up, so 67 hits in one day seemed high. I clicked on the function that shows who referred readers to my blog, and discovered this. Look at number 6 on the list of matching websites.
This has to be the funniest search hit I've ever gotten on a page, and I used to have a link to "Nude photos of Britney Spears and Molly Shannon" on my old diary at Diaryland, designed specifically to trap hits from search engines.
Don't forget to see what's new on my photo blog and Party In My Pants!
It's been an incredible week for dramatic television. "House" was the best I've seen so far, "Law & Order: Special Victims Unit" was thought-provoking and tragic, and tonight's "CSI" season finale made me cry. The plot was brilliant (and directed well by Quentin Tarantino) and the acting was breathtaking. I will be surprised if it doesn't win them an Emmy or two.
After taking the neighbors' car to the shop this morning (if you're unaware of why I would be paying to have someone else's car fixed, please see this archived post for details of the accident) Jessica and I met up and walked into town. I had a banana split at Dairy Queen and we goofed around in an antiques shop (photos of said goofing around can be found on my photo blog) before ordering a pizza and watching "CSI" back at my house.
I get to spend six and a half hours working with my Holier-Than-Thou co-worker, and I'm not looking forward to it. I try really hard to find something positive to say about everyone, especially if I don't particularly like them, and I cannot find a single nice thing to say about this woman. Not one thing. There aren't many people that get under my skin that badly.
Don't forget to see what's new on my photo blog and Party In My Pants!
I'm working alternating days between now and Saturday, so every day when I go to work I can say, "Yay! I don't have to work tomorrow!"
Tomorrow is my second day off this week, and I get to take the neighbors' car in to have the wheel strut replaced. I will still have to save around $400 to have the fender fixed, but it will be a relief to have the major problem fixed and out of the way.
Danielle and I were talking today and came up with a brilliant idea for a group blog. Go check it out and add it to your list of must-reads!
Don't forget to see what's new on my photo blog and Party In My Pants!
Tonight's episode of "Law & Order: SVU" was centered around the issue of organ transplant, and whether buying/selling organs should be legal. The system that is used now places patients on a list based on the severity of their illness, but the number of patients in need is much higher than the number of donors.
On the one side of the issue was the argument that if people were monetarily compensated for donating their healthy organs to people whose own organs were failing, more people would be willing to part with a kidney, or other body part, and there would be fewer people going without the operations necessary for them to live. From the alternate perspective, if human organs could be purchased, what would be the means for deciding the value of a lung, or a heart? People unable to procure the inevitable hundreds of thousands of dollars would be passed over for the procedures and lose their right to live.
I would like to believe that there could be a happy medium if selling organs were legal. I believe there would still be people willing to donate them for free, and a combination of the two systems could provide for all of the needy parties.
What do you think?
Don't forget to see what's new on my photo blog!
I've been working too much. I have plenty to say, but I can't seem to put together intelligent sentences.
After eating a glut of delicious frozen pot stickers and spring rolls for dinner I've decided that the Safeway Select generic products are just as good as, if not better than national products, and my decision has nothing to do with working at Safeway.
I bought a four-pack of Grapples yesterday, and I think I've found my new favorite-for-the-moment fruit. Don't know what they are? They're apples that are flavored to taste like a grape. They're crisp and juicy, and they taste grapey, but still taste like apples. I like them because they're sweet and not too appley or too grapey, plus you get all the fiber and pectin that you get out of an apple. They're normally a little spendy ($4.99 for four, regularly priced), but if you have a Safeway in your neighborhood, they're on sale right now for $2.49 per package.
I signed up to sell Mark yesterday. I'm actually pretty excited, because representatives get 40% off of the already affordably-priced beauty items. Anyone who knows me well knows that I'm addicted to makeup and skin-care products. It's also a good opportunity to make some extra cash if I can actually find people to buy from me. I believe the target demographic for Mark is younger women (Mark is part of the Avon corporation) and there isn't much selection around here for makeup and skin care/bath & body products. I shouldn't have too much trouble building a clientele.
I've got the day off from work tomorrow, and I'm looking forward to just vegetating. I've got some errands to run, and I'm going to go to Radio Shack to download music with my new friend, Jessica, but I plan on spending the rest of my day just relaxing. I should be able to write something a little less disjointed then.
Don't forget to see what's new on my photo blog!
BJ fueled up his truck wearing bermuda shorts and an unbuttoned shirt. The sun was shining and there was only a slight breeze. That's unusual for this area.
"Are you going to the beach?" I asked, taking his money.
"No, just going to wash my truck. It's almost like the beach."
"Yeah," I said. "Just like the beach. Only without all that pesky sand. And all of those boring girls in bikinis."
My Holier Than Thou co-worker laughed for a good two or three minutes. That might not sound like a long time, but try laughing for two minutes. Go ahead, try it.
Yeah, I didn't think it was worth that much laughter either.
Don't forget to see what's new on my photo blog!
After several months of having no television, mom's boyfriend finally brought a "spare" from his house. I guess he finally got tired of having to kick me out of the bedroom when he came over in the middle of "American Idol" to take a nap.
He brought it over just in time for "House" on Tuesday night, which I haven't seen an entire episode of since Kevin was here, but due to the inactivity of our satellite receiver since something like January, D!sh Network shut it off. Mom's boyfriend spent a good few hours on the phone with their customer service department, and finally got it back up and running. So now we have television again, and I'm starting to feel bad for disliking him. Don't get me wrong--he's still creepy and makes me feel a little uncomfortable, but how can I hate someone who will sit on hold for two hours just so I can watch "House"?
Don't forget to see what's new on my photo blog!
Last night I set out to make a few small improvements on my blog, and ended up doing a major overhaul. I am very pleased with the results.
I liked the template that I had before, but I hated having all of my links, etc., crammed into the one sidebar. I wanted all of my information right up front, available to people who maybe didn't want to scroll halfway down the page just to see what other kind of stuff I had. This new one loads more quickly, and I think the Narcissus graphic and corresponding color scheme are more appealing and indicative of my personality. The colors will probably look more accurate in other browsers and on other types of monitors, too. The old template looked tan on my iBook screen, but at the library it was a sort of neon-pea-green. I don't think you can go wrong with the warm colors on this one!
In addition to the extra sidebar, I created a photo blog (it's also linked in the sidebar on the left) where I will upload my Blogger Mobile items from now on. I also have my yafro photos linked there, and am contemplating removing them here. What do you think? During the redesign I deleted the Shoutbox since it never got used, (and anyway, that's why the comments section is there) and if I got rid of the Yafro box it would free up more space in the sidebar.
I am fairly new to CSS (the language that Blogger uses to create templates) and, while I am proud that everything looks great and functions well for me and most of my friends, I understand that all computers are different. I designed the template with Firefox, and recommend viewing it in Firefox, which can (and should!) be downloaded here. In addition to being optimal for viewing this blog, it's just the superior web browser.
If you use Safari, the right-hand sidebar may overlap the main body of text, or you may be unable to see it at all. I have tried fixing it and nothing makes any difference. I will continue to try to find a way to remedy the problem!
If you notice any other issues that I may have missed, please let me know and I will see what I can do about them.
In this morning's round of Bad Signal emails, Warren Ellis pondered the possible number of people who are eager to get their hands on his new project, "Desolation Jones", but are unable to purchase it for lack of nearby bookstores. Add me to the "Needs comics, cannot travel" list.
Our small public library has a very limited selection of graphic novels in the juvenile section. I never even knew they were there, because I don't think to look for books like "The Watchmen" and "Maus" in the same section I look for "Harry Potter" and "The Golden Compass". Kevin sniffed them out within five minutes of entering the building, leaving me in fiction somewhere near L, returning with two crinkled and waterlogged Marvel books. I powered through "Ultimate X-Men" issue 1, "Ultimate Spider-Man" issues 1 & 2, "Death", "Promethea" issue 1, and "Ghost World", and "The Watchmen" in a very short amount of time. Of course, this exhausted the entire stock of comics available within a 100 mile and left me starving for more books that I couldn't get my hands on.
Up to that point, I had only read the "PREACHER" series, and the "Transmetropolitan" series, and a "Squee!" book. "Ultimate X-Men" was my first foray into the world of superhero comics and I have a schoolgirl crush on Colossus. What girl wouldn't love to pamper and adore an attractive, moody Russian loner with inhuman strength and the ability to rearrange his molecular structure to that of organic steel?
Kevin sent me more "Ultimate X-Men", up to issue 25. I enjoy reading them, but having to unstuff a computer file, set up all of the .pdf images at once so that they are large enough to read and I can just flip through the quickly without having to stop after every page and resize images sort of leaves a bad taste in my mouth. It's feeding my comic book lust, but requires a good four or five minutes of preparation. I like books that are all ready to read. Just open the cover and turn the pages.
“You know, long-distance relationships never work,” she said. “You’re not really together.”
I responded with, “Kevin and I have been dating for more than a year. We never fight, we’re happy. We’re together.”
She sniffed, a pious smile on her face.
“I guess you and I just have different definitions of the word ‘together’.”
This self-proclaimed ‘mother hen’ is probably 30 years older than I am, and newly married to a man who works out of town five days a week. How is my relationship much different? How is seeing Kevin every few months for two or three weeks at a time such a 180 from her seeing her husband two days out of every week?
I think that over the years relationships have changed, along with everything else. Adult life is a little more fast-paced than it was twenty or thirty years ago. People have careers that consume 80 hours out of every week, and if they don’t have a career that pays well and overworks them, they have three part-time minimum-wage jobs to pay for all of the things that are needed to survive. Where’s the time for dating? You just don’t meet people the same ways they did in the ‘70’s. Lifestyles have changed, technology has changed, and the collective morals of entire countries have changed.
In my situation it’s not a question of having time to date, it’s a matter of having very few options in the immediate vicinity. All of the men that live here are either gross, impossibly immature, or have already completed the circuit of available women at least once. If your choices were as limited as mine are, you’d import fresh meat too.
I might just say, "Screw Yafro!" and start posting all of my pictures here. What do you think? My other idea was to just start another blog exclusively for photos and link it here.
The day could not be going by any slower. Please send entertainment! At least I have the final two episodes of Sex And The City to look forward to.
Do you know what that is? That is the stub from my first paycheck. Do you know what the orange highlighted part means? It means that I make an extra $1.25 per hour on Sundays. All day today my wage was $8.80. Oh yeah!
I have to work from 10:00 to 7:00 today. It's the worst kind of shift, and today is a holiday. Wish me luck.
After reading my daily blogs last night and seeing all of the neat stuff that Monica the Uber-Zip had linked, Kevin and I found ourselfs browsing the Think Geek site for a couple hours.
They have a neat toy that you can play 20 Questions with, and Kevin found a link to a website that has the same AI. It's very addictive, and it will blow your mind how often this piece of code correctly guesses what you're thinking. I linked 20Q in my sidebar (can you see it over there? I hope so!) so all of you can have as much mindless fun as I know I'll be having at least until the novelty wears off.
I would love nothing more than to post something witty, insightful, or even merely interesting here, but I feel very, very boring. Work has left me drained and tired, thankful that I have the next two days off. It seems that every time it is decided that I will be fine working by myself I end up having to make panicked intercom calls to management because each successive customer presents a problem that hasn't yet been reviewed with me. This makes for very long shifts.
I ordered 10 MS ribbons yesterday, and have decided that I should be a little less secretive about my condition. I won't be announcing my health status to everyone who will listen, but I have vowed to myself that I will no longer hesitate to answer a question when the subject comes up, or ask people to please keep it to themselves when I do make my confession. People will have to learn to be comfortable with it at some point, and it might as well be now when I'm not exhibiting any dramatic symptoms and seem as 'normal' as possible, rather than later when another big attack comes out of the blue.
Anyone who wants to know more about MS should visit the National MS Society website or drop me a line in the comments section. I like reader feedback and will gladly answer any questions that I am able to answer.
**EDIT**
I will publish a "Question & Answer" post in the next few days answering any questions that I receive in the comments section.
Kevin commented that "You Were Meant For Me" wasn't bad (Which isn't exactly right, as far as his opinion goes. He thinks it's too echo-y.), but that I should have posted "Life On A Chain". So here it is. It's one of my favorite songs to sing and it has its moments. I think the dynamics at the end are the best part. And it's not me playing the guitar.
Thanks to Lord Shan-Dong the GrueSome Terminator, Emperor-Elect of the Known Universe for providing the linkage and bandwidth. Again, comments are welcome!
The new job is going alright. I spend up to eight hours a day in a bulletproof box where I have to hold down a button and talk into a microphone just to say "Good morning" to someone who's less than two feet away from me. Even though I interact with people all day, it's very impersonal. I jump at every opportunity to help someone at the pump, just to have face-to-face contact with someone other than a co-worker.
The customers are rarely patient enough to do anything but throw their money in the drawer, gesture in the general direction of the pump they were using and leave, and none of them seem to understand that my entire till runs through a computer, and I cannot do anything for them until the previous transaction is cleared.
I've found that even though working for Safeway is respectable and many people work for 20+ years to build careers there, working in the Safeway fuel station earns you very little respect. I make more than minimum wage and am part of a union (which doesn't say much anymore I guess), but to everyone else, I still work in a gas station. I find myself having to say, "It's better than nothing" quite often. Does collecting money for gasoline somehow make me a less interesting person than I was when I collected money for alcohol? And how can you look down on someone for having a job that you yourself wouldn't want to do? Somebody has to collect the money at gas stations, and empty trash cans, and clean public restrooms.
I'm going to try to avoid bitching about my job here. I'll post the occasional anecdote or rant, but I will never complain about a specific customer or co-worker. Kinda takes all the fun out of it, doesn't it?
