Moving on up

Basically, I need a job this summer. So…I’ve been forced to apply to Old Navy. I mean, retail is great, but I’ve never done it so….

I was thinking about waitressing but honestly, I don’t think I could handle that nonsense. And I just know if someone yells at me for bringing out the wrong thing, I’ll just cry. Right there. In front of everyone. In the middle of the restaurant, I will openly weep. My mom said she’d pay me to clean the house and buy groceries. I’m about to cuss. If that offends you, get the fuck off my blog.

Fuck that.

I am not cleaning your messy house, Mom. Sorry not sorry.

So then I thought, could I work at a coffee shop? But no. I couldn’t handle mixing all those stupid drinks, then spilling stuff everywhere, then being yelled at for crying because I’m incompetent and then being yelled at more cause I’m crying. Starbucks just isn’t in the cards for me.

A brief moment I spent debating joining the circus, but that was a quick moment. I’m just not flexible, or an elephant.

Banker? No. I hate money. Politician? Too skeezy. I’m not skeezy enough. Prostitute? Not in the mood. Hockey player? I’d need to learn how to play hockey. Oh! Mechanic? Shoot, no, pants aren’t low enough. What am I ever going to do? Of course then my future flashed before my eyes in an array of dismal colors and woeful images of me relying on my parents for the rest of my life.

Old Navy it is.

I was practically laughing out loud while filling out this application. If my mom or Tyler read this, they’ll know I wasn’t actually laughing out loud, so if they comment and say I wasn’t, ignore them. They’re dumb. I was laughing out loud. It makes for a better visual. Some of the questions were like “How often do you read blogs on fashion? Daily? Weekly? Monthly? Yearly? Never?” “Monthly!” says I, wearing baggy sweat pants and a t-shirt. Actually, I was looking pretty fly today. Seriously though, I never read about fashion. Ever.

When I saw “How often do you read….” I got really excited because I thought they were asking me how often I read, because then I could check the ALL THE TIME box, and yes! I’m gonna get hired! My dreams died at the word “fashion.” You have to know clothing to work at a clothing store? Odd.

Basically I totally bullshitted (bullshat?) that whole application. Hopefully I get the job, cause I need monaaaay. Money. I meant money.

Haha I tagged this post as “fashion.” Haha I’m laughing. I feel sorry for you fashionistas who are forced to read this because of the tag. Because apparently I assume that people have to read ALL the posts in the tag they search. It’s funnier thinking that way anyway.

I need to go to bed.