Sunday, November 6
Got my first paycheck yesterday, $89.70. Could've been $99 but thanks to Uncle Sam, it isn't. Work yesterday was pretty awesome, and I have to say that I officially like my job now. I guess it's just the first three or so days that are really hard on you because you don't know shit and it seems that everyone has a rhino-ass-sized brain and you have a walnut-sized one during that time. But once you know your shit, working at Pier 1 is really decent.

On my work break, I only had $1.02 in change with me, so I decided to go to Starbucks down the block, assuming they'd have something for under a dollar. Like a cookie or something. Turns out there's not a single one that's under $1.50, except for these little shot-glass-sized brownie cookies for forty cents each. So I'd buy two; It's better than nothing. While I was standing in line, crying inside like a little emo boy who wears eyeliner, that I couldn't have one big cookie, the guy behind the counter calls over to me if I wanted a free cappuchino. Somebody changed their mind or walked out, I couldn't remember, so the people working there just wanted to give it away - fresh and hot. Aw man, was I thrilled. Then when it was my turn to order my zit-sized cookies, the lady was announcing all this happy shit, "It's your lucky day, honey!"

It truly was. That cappuchino of theirs is fucking delicious.

Had to work this morning from 7:00 - 11:00, and it wasn't the greatest thing because the store doesn't open until 11:00 on Sundays, so I had to take out garbage and pull out furniture from boxes out of the stockroom and assemble them for display. It was today that I found out that I should never be a stockperson, and as a salesperson I should be compared (better yet promoted to the likes of) Olivia Newton John in the world of looking good in pink spandex. Squeezing giant and heavy boxes through narrow aisles of shelves with more boxes sticking out in your way is pretty uncomfortable, man. Because of that, all the other boxes and shit that was in the way forced me to squeeze my arms together, and therefore squeezing the box, therefore making the corners of the box cut my inner arms. Or rather, my wrist. Jesus fucking Christ, something(s) cut my right wrist about four or five times, three inches down my arm and now I look like a fucking suicidal emo loser. There's bandages all over it now and now I can't wear t-shirts without looking like everybody that I hate. Hey fucker, at least I didn't do it on purpose. I don't even need a fucking razorblade. All I need is cardboard and a retail job.

The fat phase is kind of backfiring on me because I kind of shrunk back to normal again some. It's probably because I skipped breakfast today and didn't eat after coming home from work at 11:00, but my lunch was fucking amazing.

Lunch
1 bowl of soup with rice
leftover grilled pork
2 cases of Burger King french fries with ketchup
2 bowls of Honey Bunches of Oats Cereal with milk

Afternoon Snack
1 Hershey's milk chocolate bar

Dinner
2 KFC chicken legs
2 small cups of mashed potatoes with gravy
2 biscuits


Yesterday, although, went smoothly. It was just today that I fucked up.

McDonald's Breakfast Of:
1 hash brown
1 bacon, egg, and cheese McGriddle
small (and flat) Sprite

Lunch
2 double fudge brownie cookies
1 bowl of baked ziti
medium cappuchino (fuck "tall," "grande," and "venti," or whatever the fuck it is)

Dinner
6 slices of Pizza Hut supreme pizza
1 bowl of soup and rice
grilled pork

Dessert
forgot if I had any or not


And there's one more thing that must be made clear: An asian cannot go one day without eating rice.


Christina N. @ 4:59 PM