Today I decided I'm going to quit. And I flip-flopped back and forth for most of the evening about whether I would actually go through with it. I don't need a second job. I don't need the money. I liked the idea of it because I would be working in a bookstore and I could read books and I thought there would be ample eye candy. Wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrooooong. Ok, so there are the hot dads that come in but they are few and far between. And I don't get to read. And I work with a bunch of fuddy-duddies. My decision to quit was practically made for me tonight. And I will tell you why. We have to wear these head sets and everyone can/does talk on them. I work with a lot of people that think they are HIGH-larious. They aren't. This one old lady was talking about being too personal with customers and how you need to get them in and get them out. "That's what she said" is/was the only thing I'd said over these godforsaken head sets and no one appreciated it. Anyone who can't appreciate the art of a well timed "that's what she said joke" is dead to me.
On a lighter note, I went and saw my father before I went into work this evening. He told me he would work on getting me some tickets to both the UT/Memphis game AND tickets to see the Colts play. YESSSSSSAAAAA. Back to the point: I swear I think he does drugs. Ricky-poo was asking me how to do something on this ipod (both of my parents are totally technologically challenged) so, naturally, I told him to google it. His face dropped and he looked like I just punched him in the throat and he said "Shannon, that's not the right thing to do." Then he turned around and walked away. I'm still really confused what he meant by this. Was he disappointed by my answer? Surely not because "google it" is my answer to 9 out of every 10 questions. Even if I know the answer I still will tell you to google it.
Ok. Time for bed. Tomorrow's Thursday. Raise the roof. Get it.