School followed by torturous bus rides followed by getting to hold a cool bird getting ditched by friends followed by getting lunch followed by getting snarked at for asking a store employee a question about a sign. Then there was the job interview, which was both good and bad. Good because I think they loved me, bad because they're not willing to pay me enough and I would be "eligible for a raise in six months to two years" if I worked there. (For those of you just tuning in, I'm trying to wrangle something around $9-10/hour.) It's a bright side in and of itself, though, because I keep dropping off applications and knocking on doors and despite the fact that EVERYONE is hiring and that I have a good skill set and education for a 19-year-old, no one seems to have any work for me.
They want me back for another interview on Tuesday. I said I'd go, and I suppose I'll accept the job as a last resort.
Then there was me coming home (good thing) in a bit of a huff (bad thing) and being so huffy that I pulled my hoodie off too fast and snagged my face on the zipper, tearing my cheek open (for me, this is definitely good). I'm now walking around with this awesome gash on my face. I look like a pirate. Of course, pirates are still rather silly, sensitive little girls who sometimes don't have the strength to deal with people, so I'm being a reclusive pirate, but I'm still a fucking pirate, thanks. The snake and I both got dinner (good thing; on a given day, only one of us eats, and even then it's usually one meal), and I got a shipment of bras I bought off eBay (amazing; order D-cup bras online and they actually fit and are cute? Gasp!). The rest is... well, the rest is not really notable.