Dissatisfaction

Today I feel nearly completely dissatisfied.

I've actually felt this way for a little while.

For a period of time I mistook this for sadness. Now, it's not like I felt depressed (I'm not emo) but there was something missing. It's not that there's something missing though either. It's that there isn't enough to go around to fill the void. The void being my level of satisfaction.

When I looked in the mirror this morning I just sighed and stared. I moisturized my face after getting out of the shower and I smiled. I smiled at the slight improvement that took only seconds. Then I saw it, the recurring flaw. Teeth.

High School is now over and I've finally escaped the torment of my peers. My teeth, they torment everything in my life. I can't smile without being conscious of their astounding grotesqueness.

As I start every day, I have this reminder. So of course I'm thinking of ways to escape this and I can't. In order to do anything, I have to get ready.

What am I getting ready for? Ding! Ding! Ding! More dissatisfaction. I sit in the car for my 20-30 minute ride to the mall where I get to make a nickel for a dime's worth of work. I feel like I could be better elsewhere, not to mention, other people who are less deserving have the jobs and wages that I deserve. It's just so frustrating that I can't get something (that would be beneficial to both sides) without getting upset.

I spoke with Stacy last week and she said that she would talk to Becky and Veronica about how they've been dicking me around and using me. Well, that happened. They didn't even apologize for doing what they did, and Veronica was still really, really bitchy to me. They think they're all hot shit, counting money, and writing e-mails but they can't do what we (associates) do. They can't merchandise and fill out DERs, while ringing and folding down. They're just glorified couch potatoes.

I've been looking for a new job, but it has proven difficult.

My third level of dissatisfaction roots from money. Fucking money. FUCK money. I never have enough, it's inconsistent, and is the only way to get or do anything. I used to not mind looking rich but always being extremely broke, thinking "things will get better". Delusional... right? I'd rather look poor and feel rich than this. I can't enjoy a damn thing without it either.

On my way to school the other day, someone won a brand-new car. I didn't smile. I was jealous. I hated her. Good things don't come to those who wait OR those who go after them. Everything's just luck of the draw and you just have to hope that you won't end up dissatisfied.

Bipolar?

This week as been quite the week, and with how fast paced it has felt this should come as no surprise. But there are two more days left to this week and today has been the most eventful by far.

Around 12:00am I had an episode.

Around 12:45am an old, almost boyfriend wanted me to have phone sex with him. Um, no.

Around 7:50am I downed a cup of coffee and headed to school and actually arrived on time.

Around 1:00pm I starved myself because I had work to do, that wasn't collected.

Around 4:00pm I started to drive to work, I drove 40mph the whole way there.

Around 4:30pm someone wouldn't sell me cigarettes because they thought my ID was fake. I fucken took my business elsewhere. Fuck that shit.

At 5:15 I finally went to work. Now this is where the stories start.

As I came into work, I counted down a drawer, since I was going to become main ringer. I've become closer with Stacy recently. This is due to the fact that Bovan now works at WAL-MART and that I'm one of the few members of the night crew who has been working there for more than 3 days.

The night was slow therefore Stacy and I spent most of our time mildly gossiping about customer experiences, and funny family stories while we folded. She had informed me that she had a very important story that she couldn't believe that she had forgotten to tell me. I immediately thought it was just an extra saucy story about one of our regulars--I was right in part.

Stay started to tell a story with the regular customer coming up to 2 newer associates and claiming, "I need a new outfit for court that doesn't make me look like such a fucking slut, like I normally do." The associates informed Stacy that they were uncomfortable. She was the perfect customer to create a bond with but whatever.

Stacy then took it upon herself to assist the customer. She knew her superior customer experience would aid her in not feeling like a pansy uncomfortable idiot. The customer had revealed to her that she had to go to court for domestic abuse, and that she may have her children taken away.

This only made Stacy feel worse because the woman showed her a GIANT tattoo (a tribute to her children) that she had gotten earlier in the week that was causing her physical pain on top of her emotional pain. Stacy did help her find a nice pair of khaki pants, and a black camisole to go with the denim jacket she had wanted. She looked plain jane, just how her lawyer had asked of her.

At the end of the story, Stacy informed me that she had forgotten one crucial part. The customer had said to Stacy and one girl who isn't new, Mae Ling, "Where's the cute little gay boy who always helps me?" Unfortunately, they had to inform her that there were not any males on staff until 5:15pm. When Stacy had to inform her, she told me it was when she really noticed that the poor customer had officially hit rock bottom

The worst part of it all is that it was one of MY regulars. I feel terrible that I couldn't have been there when all she wanted was assistance from the person who always aids her. I could have been her crutch. In her hard time she needed a familiar face who never judged her. I had her on my mind all through the rest of the night.

Around 8:15 I went on my cigarette break. I had that customer on my mind. While sitting outside, and old man was walking into the mall. He said to me, "Those cigarettes are that good to make you sit out in the freezing cold?"

I was in no mood, and couldn't believe the audacity of this old piece of shit and replied with, "You don't know what you're missing."

Expecting a chuckle from the bitter old fuck, he sassily replied, "It's a nasty habit."

As he reached for the door, I said in a firm, irritated, yet informative voice, "Fuck off." The old bastard shook his head as he walked into the mall. Go ahead and walk into that mall. Do you know how many worse things happen everyday than a teenager smoking a cigarette outside of the mall?

It killed me that he didn't understand how I felt. My emotions have been across the board all week, not to mention today. I felt frustrated, depressed, sad, ugly, beautiful, sassy, angry, hurt, excited, jealous, even happy.

Call me Sybil, but I'd much rather be called Caesar.

Everyone Builds Credit

Today was as average as could be, I was scheduled at GAP for 4:15-7:15. A blip of a shift. I had planned to get a ride from Aneta, but she was unable to do it since she was still at work, over 20 miles away. Simply, I had no ride to work.

I even called Diane, but still, no ride available.

Around 3:30 I finally worked up the courage to call. A voice answers the phone, "Thank you for calling GAP Outlet in Rotterdam Mall. This is Stacy, I can help you." I could hear the generic happiness and enthusiasm that accompanies answering the phone there.

I was relieved when I hear Stacy's voice. I was so glad that it wasn't Hugh. Despite the fact that I am seeing him more and more as a real human being, he still intimidates the shit out of me in terms of an employee-employer relationship. I told Stacy the truth, even though I heavily contemplated faking sick. I can fake sick pretty damn good too!

She laughed and exclaimed, "It's Okay! Employee of the Month!" She called me by it as if it were my name.

I smiled and said, "But I still feel terrible, you know?!" I really did just feel terrible about the whole thing. I had never called in a day of my life until today.

She comforted me with,"Everyone builds credit. And here, you've done just that. It's completely excusable." At the time this didn't seem very comforting to me, and I continued to just spill apologies out of my mouth. Looking back on it, it meant a lot to me.

I have learned that over the course of 8 months, I've been awarded Employee of the Month which people who have been there over a year haven't even gotten. I've built friends and healthy co-worker relations. And I have established a great reference. I've sorted clearance for hours. I've done other's floor plans single-handedly. I've delivered some of the best customer service that store has ever seen. I've earned it all, by working my fucking ass off!

Seeing that I have no one to thank but myself really takes any fear of independence out of me.

More Than A Hobby

Over the past several months I've been thinking more and more about college and what I really want to do with my life. At this point I have my eyes set on one school, LIM College. It's a smaller school located in the Upper East Side of Manhattan. LIM is the only school that is 100% fashion related. Not one of their majors is unrelated to fashion. Last night at work I realized that a career in fashion isn't a question anymore, it's definite.

When I was at work, I was stationed in the adults section to fold all night and greet, as well as assist customers. One customer needed my assistance with denim, one of my favorite items to help people shop for due to it's price tag along with how picky people are with it. She was, tan, and thin, and looked like she was in her mid 40s.

I helped her on the floor, and she was impressed. I asked Stacy to keep her eye on her in the fitting room, because I knew she was the kind of person who would want a second opinion. Then Hugh came and said, "I'll watch Adults if you want to go help her personally," despite his normally cold, manager ways. I was so excited to basically be some one's personal shopper, and tell them if they look like shit or not.

I went back, and the woman had to have had tried on 15 pairs of jeans in her venture. She fell in love with the boot cut, which she only tired on because I encouraged it. She had just lost 25lbs she told me, and it felt great to make someone feel great about their image anyways, let alone that she has a new found confidence in her image.

As Stacy finished with her at the cash wrap, Stacy told me over the walkie that she was really impressed with me, and was glad I was there to help, and that made me feel great. Before I had time to think, the customer, was leaving the store, I said to her, "Have a good one."

She thanked me profusely and told me, "You're in the right place, you really know what you're talking about."

In that instant I really realized that style isn't just something I obsess about, and it's not something I'm infatuated with. It's embedded in my brain, it's encoded in my genetics. I couldn't be more excited to apply to colleges in the fall. For the first time in my life, I can really see what I want for my future without any questions asked.

Ill, Yet Optimistic

I've been sick for a few days. It's been terrible. I have to work from six to ten tonight. I've worked 4 days in a row, I'm not used to it. I haven't seen Ronnie in a week as of today.

My nose has been conjested completely to the point that I can't even breathe out of my nose at times. At other times it's so runny that I feel like the world can see my nose turning into a waterfall. People can tell in how I act and how I look that I'm sick--it's pissing me off.

On Saturday night, Charles, Diane, Diane's sister, Abby, and myself along with other regulars at Outrage, went out to a Chinese Food Buffet when I got out of work. I was the only thin one. We went to Outrage after.

Sunday night at work was Derek's last day at work. He was moving back to Brazil, where he went to college. I had discussed what Brazil was like with him before. He has a girlfriend back there, I think it's adorable. Here I am, seeing how people CAN stand the test of time. I feel as if I am that person, I possess the patience.

Later on in my shift, I was chatting with Stacy. She is just as sick as me, and has the same opinions of it. She doesn't want people to treat her differently, or look at her differently just because she's got a cold.

I woke up late this morning, I wouldn't have been late to school if I weren't so high maintenance.

School today felt odd because it was rainy and dark all day. I ran sign-ups for the blood drive at school today. I have little homework, and as of Friday I am officially 5/8 of the way done with high school. I take the English Regents tomorrow and the next day, which will be a piece of cake.

I just had dinner. I'm going to get ready for work, and when I get home I'll just call Ronnie and go to bed. I think all I need is a little rest.

Greetings, Gays, and the GAP.

This evening at the GAP was one of the best nights I think I've ever had. Being after the holidays, the store happened to be in great condition, and I was closing for the first time in a while. A guy named Christian who had started there when he was my age, and one of the best managers there, Stacy, were closing with me. I looked fabulous and my make-up was still as fresh as it was at 1, when I came in. I also had a surprise lunch with Beyonce, better known as Sasha Fierce.

Initially when meeting Christian, I didn't like how he could give me a taste of my own sarcasm. He was cute too, but not as put together as myself. We warmed up to one another quickly after. I am slightly bothered that Stacy might like him more, and she liked me before he came back. We made fun of a woman in a wheel chair who wore sunglasses, and planned to bomb the store in the fitting rooms after closing. But meeting Christian was like meeting myself, gay and all--but not the current man of interest surprisingly.

Earlier in the day, around 3 or 4, I was just floating on the floor making sure things were tidy, and up to par. I was then approached by a woman who I remembered because she came in with a really cute, apparently gay, boy, who had a blond Mohawk, which to my surprise is multicultural, if you know what I mean. After establishing the fact that I'm gay (which was the hardest, and to me funniest, part for his friend Naomi), she asked for my number for him. Since he didn't approach me himself, I left him with my name to look me up on facebook. Haha, Internet, thanks for letting me establish a relationship from a distance. We will call this boy Ronnie.

I looked amazing today also. Despite being as sick as a dog, my style and visage were right on target. I looked great, my make-up was nice and smooth, my freshly washed outfit was crisp and flawless, they were painted on me with masculine precision. Everyone noticed, and realized, it was nice.

I hung out with Diane, and went to Outrage, it would have been better had Charles been home. But we had fun for the most part. I saw Ronnie on Facebook, and he has his nipples pierced which is a little off, but his tummy is so smooth, I'm gonna get him quick and easy. And I don't even know if I want to see Christian again, I love and hate him. I just know he's equally confident, which won't work, because I need to be that one in the relationship, but he's fucking fine as hell! I'm still in Outrage now, Diane left, and Charles is on his way I think, but he probably works tomorrow.

That's the GREAT DAY of Greetings, Gays and the GAP.