Rewind.

It’s May 13, I have been close to drowning working only 12 hours a week and not making enough money to pay rent and I’ve just been offered a second job that I really want. I am over the moon excited. I am supposed to start at the end of May.

It’s June. The new shop isn’t finished being built yet. I’ve been walking past it for weeks on my way to my other job; there’s barely ever anyone working on it. I am getting annoyed; I really want to start working and earning more money.

Finally, it’s June 10 and my first day of work at the new job. It’s a full day of manual labour. Unpacking boxes, sorting stock, walking up and down endless staircases. By the end of the day I am sweaty, tired, and have buns of steel. It’s also my birthday party night.

I partied hard that night. Very hard.

It’s been about three shifts at the new job (including the manual labour shift) and I get pulled aside by the regional manager, whom I’ve met once, who tells me that our boss, the owner (whom I’ve never met), says I am not forward enough with customers. You may be asking, How can someone you’ve never met tell you how you are performing at your brand new job? I’ll tell you. There are video cameras all around the shop and the owner watches us from Scotland. Creepy.

It’s been several more days of work. The shop is very hot. The ceilings are low and there are spotlights all over. Standing under them for any amount of time longer than 10 minutes is nauseating. I also have to wear the clothes from the shop. They are ill-fitting and poorly made. Not to mention terribly off season, which doesn’t help with the heat in the shop. I have worn the cardigan they gave me twice and 3 of the buttons have already fallen off.

My supervisor treats me like a child. She asks me to do something and then always adds “but do it as quickly as possible,” like I would have done otherwise. She also turns down all of my suggestions before doing them herself an hour later and taking the credit. I do not like her.

I hate this job. If anyone asks me how it’s going I can’t even put on a brave face and act like it’s going well; I just full on hate it. I have never wanted to quit a job so soon after starting it. Just thinking about having to work makes me feel physically ill.

It’s been about three weeks since I started working (or slowly dying). I get a phone call in the morning before a shift. It’s a shop that I applied to three months ago offering me an interview. I say thanks but no thanks, I already have two jobs.

I get to work later that day and my supervisor is as demeaning as ever. Instead of eating lunch in the break room I decide to walk across town to ask if it’s not too late to get that interview after all. Within two days I have my interview, within four more I got the job. Within an hour of getting hired at one shop I’ve given my notice of resignation at the other. It is a good day.

I work for one more week at the worst job ever as a courtesy, considering I haven’t even signed a contract to work here and I could just leave without notice. On July 16 at 5:30 I am free. My last day there is a happy day.

My new job is awesome.