As I sit here on this beautiful, sunny day removing my perfect nail polish from my perfectly manicured nails, a wave of defeat sweeps over me. Why am I removing my nail polish if it is still perfectly intact you ask? Oh, well it's because my job doesn't allow me to wear nail polish unless it is clear.
All I want in this life right now (at least as far as careers go), is a job that allows me to earn a livable wage (ex. enough to pay rent, bills and save a decent chunk), a job that is creative, or a job that allows me a schedule conducive to my current living habits (sleeping in, staying up late). Also, a job that allows me to wear nail polish and makeup and heels would be cool too, because it takes me about 10 minutes to get ready for my current job and I always feel so sloppy and unkempt and child-like that I can hardly live inside my own skin. Anyone that knows me knows that I live for heels and feminine things... so when I walk into work everyday wearing cuffed jeans, flip flops, and no makeup I feel like a mess... not even a hot mess.. just a MESS. I hate it. I can't even take myself seriously for God's sake.
Anyhow...
After a two month debate, I have quit my job at Highline once and for all. It was one of the hardest decisions that I've ever had to make; I know that it probably sounds trivial to anyone reading this right now... but I had more than just a weekend job invested in that place.
After two of my friends and fellow co-workers quit around January, it was a slow decline for me. Not only did I not have my comrades to joke about all of the idiots and sluts around us with, but I had no one to socialize with while I stood at the hostess stand. Making it worse was the fact that one of the new 'managers' that was hired there treated me like complete shit. I won't go into detail because I have to leave for work soon and I'll just get violent at the mere thought of him....
I tried to tough it out, but the fact that he treated me like less than a person and took away rights that I previously had didn't fly with me. On top of that, I started going psycho every weekend on my boyfriend because working in nightlife is pretty taxing when you work with your significant other. I couldn't separate my relationship from work anymore. Every time a new bottle server got hired I was suspicious and would start an argument whenever I saw something I didn't agree with. Furthermore, I came to resent the bottle servers as I stood there in the lobby shivering in a fucking winter coat every weekend and they got to waltz around the joint almost naked. We all know I love being naked, so I seethed in fury that I looked like a goddamn eskimo and they strutted their shit around in booty shorts and corsets. I also resented the fact that some of them were the most ungrateful people I had ever met. I don't think a 19 year old that makes in one night what I make in a week of full-time work should ever get bitchy towards me for helping explain the bottle package that she was too fucking dumb to understand. I also don't think that someone who makes that much money for one night of work should ever expect me to collect THEIR tip from the promoter, or bus THEIR tables, or even help them carry THEIR bottle over to the table. Sorry bitch, I'm not the one walking away with $500 tonight....
As you can see, the rage in me is still slowly subsiding. I just don't understand how something that started out as a fun weekend job for me evolved into something that filled me with hate every single weekend. I tried so hard to keep my cool, but at the end of every night I would end up going home and crying. I realized in the end that I had to get out to save my relationship and to save my sanity. As a girl (and I'm sure any girl reading this can relate) we have a tendency to blow little things up into big things. I do this because I have a very over-active imagination. When I started hostessing and wasn't as invested in my relationship as I am now, the little things didn't bother me. But recently, I would go fucking wild inside every time I saw someone touch my boyfriend's arm, or talking with him in the side station. I knew I had to get out before I drove myself and him insane.
Now, the battle is going to be finding a way to entertain myself on the weekends. For most people, that should be no struggle at all. However, for the past year of my life, I never even considered Friday and Saturday nights my weekend. MY WEEKEND was Sunday night, or Monday night... or whatever week day night that my boyfriend and I had off together to go out on. Even though I was making shit for money their, it was still a supplement to my full-time income. So now, instead of making money on the weekend, I'll be spending it if I go out.
I have been considering finding another hostessing job to keep me out of trouble on the weekend and to keep my mind off of Highline, but I think that's easier said than done as well. Most people would argue that I should enjoy my weekend nights for what they are and relish in the fact that now I can get more sleep. But I don't think I will get more sleep because if I'm not kept busy on a Friday and Saturday night, my mind will go to dark places and I will go bat-shit insane if I'm not entertained or in the company of friends. The first week was rough.... it was a really hard transition not packing a bag with my heels and dress for Highline. As my shift at Mollister came to a close, it felt weird not feeling that urge to hurry up and close the store so I could get ready and do my hair and makeup. It felt... UNNATURAL. haha. I spent my first free Saturday out with one of my girlfriends. It was fun at first, but it just reaffirmed why I don't really like going out to clubs on a weekend night. All of the guys that go out are gross for the most part. As the night wore on, I started to get slightly emo... but luckily was kept on track by my friend. This weekend, I decided to have a casual night in with another girlfriend I hadn't seen in a while. Everything started out fine and dandy enough until my wine consumption peaked and we started talking about Highline and my mind just went off to another place. Needless to say, the night ended badly with me getting violently ill and going psycho. I really do need another job to keep me out of trouble...
HELP.
In addition to now needing a weekend job, I am still facing the uphill battle of finding a better full-time job. Despite my devotion to Craigslist, the search has been futile. I just don't get it. From the lack of responses I get, you'd think I was either 1. Stupid, 2. Had a poor employment history, 3. Really ugly, or 4. Had medical issues that rendered me unhireable. None of these are the case... I have a great employment history, have left every job on good terms and with good references, am personable, have a well-rounded resume, and am *decent* looking. What the fuck gives? It's still a joke to me at this point. I am still very grateful I have a full-time job though while I continue to look. Imagine if I didn't have my current job? Fuck.... I'd either be hitting the stripper pole, suicidal, or would just have to move back home. It wouldn't be pretty... so I should count my lucky stars every day for Mollister... even if I feel like less of a woman for not being able to wear nail polish or heels. ;) I'm also so thankful that I have friends and family and a boyfriend that continually support and try to help me in my job search. I just can't help feeling as though I've let them down in addition to letting myself down every time they find a lead or suggest a job that I apply to and it goes no where. Something has to give sometime very soon....
