I, my lovely followers and fellow bloggers, have an new job.
Goodbye 12 hour work days for shitty pay. Goodbye bully boss and all the shit you make me put up with. Goodbye horribly boring long days.
Hello, old friend.
I got a serving job. Of course... What do I ALWAYS go back to? But this time it's a bit different... This time I'm basically working at a Hooters. Only NOT a Hooters. It's a similar type restaurant tho...
Do I feel guilty about this employment decision? Subjecting my body and ED to this? Subjecting my husband to this? About the fact that I'll be parading around work in booty shorts and a tank-top flirting with male chauvinist pigs and serving them greasy, nauseating food? A bit. I do feel a bit guilty. Expecially because I've always thought those places were a wee bit ridiculous...
But here's the cold hard fact: I need money. And when I spoke to a few people about working there, everyone told me I HAD to. Even my own mom. "You'll do so well! You're so gorgeous!"
So, I thought, "I'll just go apply and see what they say." They loved me. They aren't even making me work weekends.
Saturday is my orientation and then we'll see how it all goes! Not particularly looking forward to putting on a uniform, but hey... Maybe this job will keep me motivated to look my best all the time and finally keep some pudge off.
On thing this job is DEFINITELY going to do is open up my schedule a LOT. I will have more time to volunteer, take my classes, and study for the GRE.
Speaking of which, I've made some life-altering decisions lately...
I'm going to graduate school. Hopefully next fall if I get in. I talked to an admission's councelor and found out what I'd have to do to get in and I need to work less in order to accomplish these things.
I have got to get a stellar score on the GRE, begin volunteering, and still make some money to put aside. This seemed like the best idea.
We'll see if it actually is...
Wish me luck on Saturday, ladies!