Second Verse, Same as the First

I know lately I've been talking about trying to get multiple jobs but I've realized I think I'm actually trying to find another, completely separate job. As in, I would like to get another job, so that I can quit my current job. I have never worked at a place that is so needy and unorganized and unappreciative of their employees. Granted, I've only had four jobs, not counting this one, but three of them were working in fast food (one of the most unappreciative services there is), and none of them were this disgustingly needy. I dread their call like I dread the student loan calls. It seems like every day they're calling me to see if I can come in for a few hours, and half the time, more like 75% of the time, they actually mean just three hours. Some days I think about going in to shop, or just browse the clearance or whatever, and then I absolutely do not because I know the minute I walk in those doors, whether I'm  alone or with someone, someone will see me and they will ask me if I want to work. And yes, I do need the money, but I do actually have things to do. I do laundry on Tuesdays and Fridays so that Jeremy's gi is always clean for karate class. We still don't have our own washer and dryer so I go to my parents house and it is kind of actually an all day thing, especially when mum is already doing laundry, or when she's left laundry overnight or whatever. Today is Friday. (You can see where this is going.) Work called me in today from 11-4. Now you're probably saying, why don't you just go after work Storm? And I'll tell you why: because I actually like spending time with my husband. I work all day tomorrow, and Sunday, and Monday, so if we don't hang out tomorrow for a few hours, I will literally only see him in passing until Tuesday. Which would make sense if I were working an 80 hour a week job or doing some overtime at the office or a traveling salesman, but none of those things are happening. My place of employment is just vindictive. And no, this will not be a sweet paycheck, like everybody keeps telling me. It's going to be a 42 hour pay. And at my wages, after taxes, that doesn't really cover all that much. I know I shouldn't be complaining about having a job where I make a very small wage but when they asked to have me full-time over a month ago I thought they meant 40 hours a week, (and not 5 hours everyday so that I never have a day off and if I do it's somehow my fault, which feels like the game plan) not 40 hours a pay.

Long story short: I hate this place, I want a new job.

Sitting in a Parking Lot

I'm creeping in the parking lot of a truck stop all hopped up on sugar-free Rockstar waiting for my parents to get in. They left their Jeep with me so I could check on the dogs while they were busy getting their redneck on at a NASCAR race in Dover. Classy.
I went over Saturday night to give the one dog her meds. It was horrifying. There was shit everywhere. Someone had diarrhea, twice, and then they seemed to trample through it and track it all over the first floor. I didn't even go upstairs to see if they had destroyed that as well. I called my mum while I was there and gave her the scene and she goes "oh that's terrible, I'm sorry Storm." I was like no no no, that reaction is not acceptable. It is terrifying over here, I think this might be a level of hell, you need to try that again.
I went home and blasted a beer then had a cup of pumpkin flavored coffee with an ice cream sandwich in it.
So that was my weekend.