Feeling Like a Turkey

I was up late last night. I put in an application at Staples for a cashier job at their Audubon location. Ok, so I don't know anything about technology, and I was really hoping to avoid getting stuck at another retail job. Obviously, I don't have a choice. I don't know anything but working retail. I'm too scared to talk my way into a better job. How would I do it? What would I say? How would I explain my lack of skills?

I got phone calls from Mom and Rose, one after another. I don't mean to upset everyone. I don't tell them these things because I want to avoid causing trouble. Right now, I have about 300 dollars to my name. That includes the 20 in my savings account and all the paper money I have on me. Everyone's worried about me losing my apartment. I already told Andrew I was having problems paying my rent, and he said he understood. I'd pay little by little if I had to. I had counted on getting at least 20 hours this week.

I can't believe all of this. I thought I was doing so well on my own. I thought I could live like a real, normal, independent woman. I thought I could have a real home, find a real job. Every time I think I'm doing something right, it is always, without fail, the wrong thing to do. Every time I open my mouth, I say the wrong thing. I just can't make anybody happy. I'm so, so scared.

After I got off with Rose, I called the therapist, Lisa Perry. Still no answer from her. I'll call the Union tomorrow and get the name of the therapist she said was in Haddonfield. If I have to ride my bike there, that's all there is to it. Oh well.

I did get a chance to talk to my boss at work tonight. Ok, I can understand not getting that many hours this week. We are between holidays. Work was so dead tonight, I spent the second half of my shift organizing Goya and other Hispanic food items on aisle 2. I still need more than 15 hours to survive. He wants me to work until 11PM, when the store closes, more often. I can't do that, either. I can't always expect to get a ride, and I certainly can't make a car or a license appear out of thin air.

I wish there weren't so many people who had worked at that store for 20 or 30 years. Everyone always says "ooh, you've worked there for seven years, you have seniority " Not when everyone else has been there for literally decades. I can't get into the bakery, either. They ended up cutting that job they had posted.

And I ended up canceling my annual get-together with my friend Amanda. For one thing, she's was just in a car accident and, though she and her car are fine, she's now nervous about driving beyond her native Vineland. For another thing, she took a third job in her local Bath & Body Works. She says she loves it (she always did enjoy browsing in there when we'd shop together), but she had to keep her old job at Bob Evans for the benefits package and to see some of her old co-workers. Plus, she's a substitute teacher for the Vineland School District. She wanted me to visit her. I haven't been to Vineland in ages and would love to, but I just don't have the money for traveling right now. We're just going to send each other presents this year (I already crocheted her something) and try again in the spring.