Today was my first day of what I like to call my “big girl” job. Most people give me a puzzled look when I refer to such jobs as that, but if you think about it, my current job, which is serving in a restaurant, is pretty much a dead-end endeavor. Unless I wanted to go management, but, no thanks. Props to those who can work 50 hours a week for a salary and deal with idiots like me. I’m not so brave.

So, today I walked into a world of high heels, classy clothing, coiffed hair, and sunny smiles. I now have a break room, equipped with a microwave that doesn’t have a chart for reheating enchiladas and steaming vegetables on it, cabinets full of girl crap (Splenda, powdered CoffeeMate creamer, and tupperware out the ying yang), and a vault room that definitely has female written all over it. By that I mean it looks like a damn paper nest. There is “stuff” everywhere. I feel as though if a boy worked there, he’d walk into the room, take one look at it, and walk right out. Women are pretty weird in the way they lay things down in a spot and are able to find it a week later. Some women. Not all. Julie loses her keys, cellphone, and earrings on a regular basis. I find her stuff and she finds mine. We work well together that way.

I’ll be working this big girl job and my serving job, to make ends meet, and my end goal is to get my own cheap apartment, where me and my cat can chill on the patio, drinking beer and water, eating kibbles and hummus, and where I can keep throbby lounge music playing while I nerd away at Visual Studio, work on my thesis for my master’s, and make pillows to chuck everywhere I need coosh (coosh is a term coined by either me or Julie, in reference to her dog Toby’s infatigable desire to have somewhere cushy to lay down) which will be….everywhere.

I’m still considering joining the military. The most appealing part of this consideration is the awesome leadership training I will get, because I know for damn sure it will pretty much land me a job where ever I want (Marine Corps officers are some of the most sought-after employees for companies). I’m tossing it around. Or, I like to think of my options as pretty bubbles bouncing around my head. I can blow it up, or let it pop. It’s all in my control.

This past Thursday I was invited to Alex and Kevin’s phat pad, where podcast magic happens in their living room with Kevin’s techy geekness laid out on the coffee table, and whiskey, beer, and cigarettes flow at a nice rate. It was good stuff. I’m more opinionated than I realized, because I had lots of questions about their topics, but was in a non-participatory role for this one. I did get some air, even though I’m white. Oh, jokes. Check it out, should be posted today or tomorrow, I hopes. Grab the Nub

I’m off to Ross to exchange a pencil skirt I accidentally split. I split the slit up the back by spreading my legs too wide. I feel a fashion rename is necessary: Chastity Skirt. Much better.

Ta!