Monday, October 27, 2008

Would you like fries with that?

I realize that the job I've taken could be worse. I realize that I could be pushing fries as an aside to burger consumption. I could be smelling like fast food every night as I depart or, God forbid, spending my meager duckets on the very food I'm slinging. Nay, my job? I get to work with Gerard Butler every night. I get to watch movies...even if it is Shrek over, and over, and over, and over (I could quote it line for line and probably act it out in shadow puppet theater. I shit you not). Movie stars pass before my eyes one after another, after another, after another. I? I am P.R. for 75% of Hollywood as I sing the praises of their latest masterpiece while assuring our guests that yes, in fact you CAN get 2 popcorn, a soda, and a candy for just a 1.99 more. Why, I'm a goddamn movie pushin' prodigy.

aaaaand CUT!

Who are we kidding? My feet hurt. All. The. Time. I wake up? And my feet hurt. I got a really expensive pedicure with my sister on Saturday as a late birthday gift to her, but I could have given that woman my first born after how much better my feet felt after she was done with me. Then Sunday I was back at work and now they hurt again. I'm anxious for hours before I have to go to work because I fear that I'll screw something up or that I'm not learning everything I need to know to be in charge of these kids in a few weeks. I walk around in pain and act like everything is OK. I smile at guest after guest and try to pretend like this isn't the worst job I've ever had. I try not to think about how I once made more money than my parents and now I'm living under their roof and barely able to pay them rent. This isn't a crack on my parents, it's just the truth. They work hard and aren't paid enough. Period. I think about the work I did before and how easy it all was for me and can't help but realize that I work harder now than I ever have and it's for $10 less an hour.

I'm a week into my new McCareer. On my second day on the job I was standing there learning something with the manager and a "regular" (as I'm told) came in and during conversation said, "Are you guys hiring?" Then with a look of disgust added, "Oh, it's not for me. It's for my daughter. I make WAY too much money to ever work here." I wanted to jump over that counter and body slam her smug, self-righteous little ass right there in the Previously Viewed section. I thought "Look, Bitch, I used to, too. Shit happens. You don't KNOW me. You don't know why I'm here or what my circumstances are. Don't judge me OR my McJob." I politely smiled and handed her her movies, "Due back Sunday by midnight. Have a great day. Whore." Ok, so I didn't call her a whore, but I wanted to.

Thursday I managed to squeeze in lunch with a friend. I love her to bits and hadn't seen her in ages. We used to work together and after I got laid off she kept me abreast of all the office gossip (until they closed their doors and she got a new job). We sat eating burritos and the like as we caught up on everything. Then I noticed a couple sit behind her (facing me). They were both in bright red and black and you couldn't help but notice them what with them looking like the wonder twins. Then another guy sat down. He was kinda hot and he, too, was dressed in red and black. Then a fourth guy...red and black. I looked at their outfits closer. You gotta be f'n kidding me. What kind of kharmic mishap have I undergone to have FOUR Bally trainers sit next to me while I chow down on a burrito the size of a small child. It's a cruel cruel world.

Thursday, October 16, 2008

Oh how the mighty have fallen.

The question becomes...how much further until I hit rock bottom? Cuz seriously? I can't take much more. Before delving into the goings on of the last month (or is it two now?) I should first apologize for my leave of absence. I do realize how rude it is to reel you in and then leave you dangling on the hook. So, uh, sorry...heartfelt even. I'm ashamed.

After my last entry my scale truly developed a Sybil like personality(ies). Could it be resolved with a new battery? Perhaps. Have I had time to get one? No. The combination of scale psychosis and starting school has left my diet ventures stale. I have not been to the gym since the Enell made it's first venture out in public. I have not counted points in, hell, I don't even remember. The only thing I have going for me is that I'm maintaining...or at least I think I am what with the scale and all.

It's at this point that I feel I should explain why school is kicking my relatively ginormous posterior. I am in the Graphic Design program at a local Community College here in the good ol' state of Oregon. One would see "Community College" and think "Psshhh, it's a Community College, how hard can it be?" Well, I assure you, they don't F around here. Graphic Design is highly competitive in Portland and you have to be good, nay, brilliant to succeed at it. Getting a C average won't get you a job in this market. My school requires you to get a B or better to continue on in the program. The program is highly structured and most classes are to be taken according to a very strict timeline. If I were to get under a B in, say, my Intro to Typography class, I would have to wait an entire year to be able to take it again and continue on. But wait, there's more. The grading scale is 5 points higher which means to get an A I have to get 95% or higher and a B is 85% to 94%. We got our midterms back yesterday. I missed one and got 97%. My new friend that I have all three of my design classes with missed 2 and that dropped her to a 93%. She got a B. The pressure (some placed upon myself by myself) is enormous. The projects are very time consuming (especially if your goal is perfection) and I'm not JUST taking the three Graphic Design classes required this term. I am also taking an art class and a business class. I'm 14 credits deep, again, and drowning.

On top of that, I got a McJob. My unemployment runs out in about 3 weeks and any and all interviews I had in the last month didn't get me anywhere. I sort of realized that a full time job in the capacity that I was once familiar was not going to be possible as this program in school progresses. Not all the classes are offered in the evening and I will have quite the job juggling conflict at that point. So, aforementioned friend from classes suggested I call her friend that works at a well known video rental establishment and the rest is history. I am now a movie pimp. I've gone from $19 an hour just 8 or 9 months ago to $9 an hour (minimum wage in Oregon at this time is $7.95 I believe). Oh, but I do get all the free movie rentals a girl can handle. Like I have time to watch movies. You can file THAT in the Comedy section. I've never worked retail and never had a job that involved me being on my feet the whole time. I've only been working for a week and though I don't yet have anything resembling love for it, I know it's a sacrifice I've had to make (among many) to be able to get my degree.

That being said, I'm depressed. I feel like I have lost everything. I'm no longer dating (it just kind of fizzled out once we both got busy), still living with my parents, barely paying my bills and not sure how I will after this month, and still over 300 pounds. I'm 32 and doing nothing but going backwards despite my valiant efforts. I have to find a way to turn this around. Rock bottom is no place for a fat girl. The climb back up is likely more than she can bear.