So, I don't think I screamed it out on my interweb rooftop, but I got a job about two months ago. Yay, and stuff. I'm working at the local Kmart, which isn't exactly what I pictured myself doing, but it's interesting work: the main thing I do is handle the price changes for the stuff, and junk. I also help out whenever the trucks arrive with the stuff, and junk.
Now, I started out getting properly trained by a really awesome woman who was doing nearly all the price changes for the store on her own. But... she started having terrible pain in her knees, and had to take some medical time off. As a result, I've been flying solo for the past two weeks or so. And while I had managed to get enough of a handle on things that I'm getting stuff done, I'm not getting all of it done; I try not to get too down on myself about it, but it's damn stressful, let me tell ya'.
But that's ok. Because working is nice. Not having to sit and stare at the walls and devise new ways of entertaining myself for every interminable hour is pretty nice. I also really appreciate having money regularly deposited into my bank account. I think the thing I like the most though is that I'm actually interacting with other human beings on a regular basis. I have great coworkers - they're all super nice, and a couple of them have made me feel extremely welcome, and there are a few who are just a damn hoot to be around. I'm going to pull a Wil Wheaton and give you an illustrative example:
Me: So, that rack of stuff, and junk, is full, so where should I shove this other junk?
Kathleen: (deadpan) How about up your ass?
Me: ... Yeah, I shouldn't have phrased it like that.
Except Wil Wheaton is a much better writer than that.
But here's the weirdest thing about working at Kmart and doing what I do: I go throughout the store on a daily basis and look at just about all the merchandise, and what it costs. I know when things go up in price, and when the prices decline, and I know when they go on clearance. I know when their clearance price drops.
Do you have any idea how hard it is to convince myself not to buy all the things I manage to convince myself I need on a daily basis? Contrary to my materially-minded brain-meats, I do not need a new set of cooking knives, or a badminton set, or an i-dog (even though it would be a great surrogate-puppy until I can get a real one!). I don't even need to get a new toothbrush that happens to be electric and fancy.
Really, it's a good thing I'm so painfully aware of how little I'm really making, or the temptation would be a lot stronger.