happyfish

So I'm working again. At superstore. Again. In the bakery (again).

I just got my schedule for next week and discovered I'm in the middle of a six-day workweek and on one of those days I start at seven. Which means I have to get up around five? Five-thirty? If I weren't so completely desperate for money I'd be less than pleased. As it is, I'm just going to make my caffeine addiction something even more serious.

I'm on my third cup today and I only got up at seven.

It's strange to go back to a place where you've worked before. There are still people there whom I recognize, and who recognize me. I got a couple hugs, my first day, and a few big smiles when people realized I came back. It's like coming home, only not quite so - happy. I like the familiarity, though. I like knowing most of what I'm doing and not just standing around feeling like an imbecile. I like the smells. It'd be almost perfect if I could get two days off in a row and if I could get the courage to dye my hair rainbow despite the dress code. We'll see how it goes.