daydream disbeliever

You can go outside where the love of the people find you

...or just the love of one person? As of right now, I'm
confused and I suppose I'll never know. I took these weird
quizzes that my cousin sent my sister the other day. The
truth in them freaked me out. I suppose I should write my
results and their meanings, since I am, after all, trying
to know myself better. Here is quiz number one:

After numbering a paper #s 1-9, one must write the names of
two guys that one knows and has feelings for in the first
and fifth slots. In the second through fourth places, one
must write the names of three people (family and friends).
In the final four slots one must write the titles of four
songs. The catch is that one must write the first
people/songs that pop in their head, no matter how weird
they seem. Here is how my list went:

1.)Josh
2.)Nikki
3.)Molly
4.)Steph
5.)Brian
6.)"Stairway to Heaven"
7.)"Whenever, Wherever"
8.)"Freebird"
9.)"Foolish Games"

Here's the odd part. The person in the first space is
the one that I love (wtf?!). The person in the fifth slot
is the person I really like but can't work out (true, so
true). I care most about the person in the second space.
The person in number three slot is the one that knows me
very well (of course, she's my sister). The person in the
fourth space is my lucky star (who knew?). The song in the
number six space is the one that matches the first person
(oh, heavens, EH can send me on a stairway to heaven?).
The song title in the seventh space matches the guy in the
fifth space (he did seem to want me and dump me whenever
and wherever). The song in number eight tells me most
about my mind, and the song in the last spot tells me how I
feel about life. Eerie! I'll post my results of the other
quiz later.

As for my life in the past few days...let's just say
they've been hectic. All of the welfare recipients got
vouchers for shoes and clothing from the government.
Needless to mention, my side of the store has been trashed
for two days and doubtless will be for the next month or
so. We've sold a whole lot of shoes, though. We got the
roller shoes in yesterday, and of nine cases, only about 24
pairs remain. A and I tried on the sevens and gave
demonstrations. We ruined the shoes, so we were forced to
shell out thirty bucks for them. We didn't use our
discount cards, though, and we're secretly going to return
them at different stores. We feel dirty for doing so, but
oh, well.

I found out today that not only am I rude, but I'm a
little bitch as well. I was helping this man find some
sneakers for his son when this old woman came up and asked
me if I had some shoes in a certain size. I told her that
she'd have to wait a minute because I was helping someone
else first. A heard her remark when she came around the
corner about how rude I was. For God's sake, I didn't say
it in a mean way. I just told her the truth. Retail (or
shall I say, the brothel of commercialism) operates on a
first-come-first-serve basis. What the old bat needs is to
get a job so my taxes don't buy her kid a pair of shoes.

After that, I was zoning the size elevens in the
toddler aisle when another old woman and her granddaughter
(I suppose, anyway) walked by and the woman said, "No,
these aren't your size. Your size is in the next aisle."
I smiled politely (I was about thirty feet away) and the
little girl went into the appropriate section. I heard the
woman say to her, "I'll go around. That little bitch won't
move." And she proceeded to go around the slippers and go
to the big kid's aisle. I stood there in shock. I
could've moved the shoe cart easily. Oh, well. It's funny
in retrospect. But old farts such as her just reinforces
my dislike of welfare skanks. I swear, my county is so
full of Ewells to the point of being ridiculous. I'm
almost sure that it has the highest population/percentage
rate of welfare recipients in the state, and that it rivals
really big cities. I find this disheartening and
disgusting.

A and I stayed until midnight tonight. We spent an extra hour
zoning our own department (which was still getting trashed when we
left) and another hour helping my old stomping grounds, softlines. J
and BC were grateful. More on EH later (have news to share avec moi,
both good and bad-both confusing, however). I hate to close on a bad
note, but not much good has occurred recently. L thinks she's
pregnant, and I still owe my dad money, J (sister, not EH) is driving
me crazy. So until next time I remain the rude little bitch

K.