My Twenty-Something Quasi-Soap

Life at my new job isn't so bad. The commute has taken some getting used to, and I'm learning how to be a somewhat competent secretary if nothing else about the theater business. The nice thing about my job is that it's given me some reason to go shopping. Last weekend, I went shopping by myself and bought one thing that I ended up returning today. I was going to go to both of the malls in the area (they're about a mile away from each other), but I didn't go to my second mall because that's where the cheesecake factory is. I wasn't afraid of being near there, I'm not that damaged. But I was seriously craving a piece of cheesecake, and I wasn't ready to deal with setting foot in that place yet, so I avoided going to the mall altogether. Rather sad. Today (Saturday) I went shopping with my mom and I actualy succeeded in buying some decent clothes for work. Now I just have to wait for the weather to cool off so I can actually wear them. And I need a

So I'm truly feeling the effects of being de-institutionalized. Or I'm feeling what it must be like to finally leave an abusive relationship. My mom even said that I needed "closure" with this whole Cheesecake thing and I guess she's kinda right. But on the whole I just feel better. I can't describe it more specifically than that. I'm smiling more and laughing more (and too hard at the summer commercial remnants that I missed all season long). I'm eating more and I haven't touched a Red Bull in a week. Even though I'm getting sleep again and all that I still feel tired. Just kinda battle weary, you know? Like I'm still recovering in a way, which I guess I am. But enough with the post-traumatic stress nonsense. Right now I'm stalling because I know I need to stand in front of my closet and decide what I'm going to wear tomorrow. I need to do it now because my brain can't function very well at 6:30 in the morning and I waste to

So I finally quit my god-awful horrible job at the Cheesecake Factory. YESSSSSSSS!!!!!!!! Today I went in for my shift as usual, and things were horrible as usual, and somewhere between trying to add a side of mushroom gravy to a to-go order and some lady screaming at me about her buffalo chicken strips, I decided that I had had enough. I was sick, and I was tired, and I wasn't taking it anymore. I was tired of being patronized by my managers. I was tired of being treated as sub-human by the customers. I was tired of the front-desk bitches acting like they were better than I was. I was tired of a co-worker mumbling behind my back about the way I did my job. I was tired of the hours. I was tired of never getting breaks. I was tired of relying on Red Bull to survive. I was tired of thinking I was going insane. Correction: I had already gone insane. I was tired of being physically sickened by the very idea of having to go to that god-forsaken place and get treated like shit.