Retail Therapy

http://www.livescience.com/culture/090521-shopping-women.html

In Recession, Women Splurge as if Addicted

I'm doing a study on emotional shopping... why does hearing the sound of the credit card swipe make us girls feel so darn good? Can't speak for everyone, but buying shoes has a remarkable ability to erase any and all stress caused by a multitude of things (in this case the fine print would read: note the feeling of elation does not last any longer than 24 hours. Side effects include credit card debt, argument with husband and second mortgage on home. Restrictions apply. Not valid for the relief of any actual physical pain. )

scien-what?!

So, making small talk with this girl working here for the day and I ask what she's reading...

MissDitz"Oh, a book on the mind; understanding how it works..."

Me: "Oh, i love psychology, so interesting"

MissDitz: "Psychology? Oh no I don't believe in that"

Me: "Uh, ya... its about as absurd as history..."

..........WTH, HOW DO YOU NOT BELIEVE IN PSYCHOLOGY??? ITS THE STUDY OF THE BRAIN, WHICH PART OF THAT DOES SHE NOT BELIEVE IN? THE EXISTENCE OF THE BRAIN? THE ABILITY TO UNDERSTAND IT?............

MissDitz: "No, I actually believe in scientology, its my philosphy"

.

.

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'NUFF SAID

Sucked Back In......

Isn't it awful when someone makes you feel really, really guilty? So I called my husband after The Quitting (which FYI went rather well, she offered me a position for when I'm done with grad school - figuring I'll probably fold letters even better by then) and he was all "OK honey, I'm happy if you're happy". What the hell?! He had to be Mr sweet and Understanding, which obviously I love but made me feel insanely guilty. Cause here I am dropping a job while the newscaster in the background is describing something like a 83% unemployment rate..... And here we are paying NY rent, which inherently means overpaying for rent, on one income as newlyweds... not to mention that we went through our gift money quicker than you can say Bed Bath and Beyond... and he just wants me happy... well, I knew there was a reason I picked him anyways.

So, ya, about an hour after hanging up, after I made myself a celebratory omelet and finally had free time to watch the episode of Real Housewives of NYC episode I recorded (yes, I see the irony. ) guilt pushed me to get my lap top and search through the community message boards to find some sort of Help Wanted. Seek and ye shall find. I called up the first job I saw, Sales and Office for a small business, and tried to discern the context of what the heavily-accented Israeli voice was talking about on the phone. "Hi, I'm calling about the job posted on blah blah", "ehh yes, who are you?"...."listen, eh, tell me you have experience yes?" ... "OK, take shower, get dressed, you come in and we talk"... Why did he assume I needed to shower? Better yet, why is he even mentioning the word shower to a random girl calling for a job? I guess I need big yellow CAUTION signs for me to stop a moment and think, but I'm a "whatever, why not" girl, who has yet to learn her lesson... so I got in my car and headed to the address he gave me (no shower, the job didn't sound lucrative enough for me to break out the loofah).

So I arrive at the store realizing nervously that in that quick conversation I had not found out the employer's name, but luckily there was only one dark-looking man standing there, so I just introduced myself to him. Let me tell you, this interview was one for the books... Here's a play-by-play:

Boss (herein to be reffered to as Israeli Cheese Ball or ICB): "So you want to work, I need someone who wants to work, who be good, keep papers neat on desk, do computer stuff - you teach me how, i need learn better, do sales yeah"

Me: "That sounds great"

Icb: "Ah, but you in school, I don't want I teach you everything then you leave I have to look again. I want it be good, you stay for long time. I have girls they leave."

Me: Well, I don't know what the future will bring, but I'm not looking to run away and can commit to at least a year

ICB: So how much you want make? what? That too much! I give you______

Me: Um, OK

And that's really how it went, ending with I'll see you on Monday... and it only occurred to me as I drove home, that he hadn't asked for a resume, reference...or last name. Either its all part of the whole "I trust you because you're Jewish (and frum...) mentality" or I'd just signed up for another psycho job. Knowing me, the latter would most definitely win...

Venturing into (and out of) the work force

Just finished day 3 of my new job.  That would make tomorrow day four, or more properly known as THE DAY I QUIT. I think 3 days was a sufficient amount of time to assess a dead-end job as just past  bearably-crappy.  In my mind, being a 22 year old eager, young graduate would be an asset to the work force. Apparently though, four years spent flushing out term papers and muddling through too-wordy sociological theory gets you one place…. Dead-endville. And despite the pleasant sounding suffix of ville, dead-endville is no place you want to work… trust me.

Working lame office jobs felt sort-of appropriate as an undergrad, but as a graduate student, fetching your boss’ write-it-off-the-company-tab-because-it-looks-large-enough-for-a-meeting-of-3-but-is-just-for-him lunch is no longer cute. But that was the last job I quit, this one is far suckier…

Let’s start with the commute, as it has left the greatest impact on me these past three days - IT MADE ME CURSE.  I usually just say fudge and other dorky replacements, because cursing has never felt natural and besides I’ve never sounded good cursing.  The job is in Brooklyn, Boro Park actually - land of the Chasidim, for those of you lucky ones out there who’ve never had the pleasure of a visit. There are about 700,324 ways to get into Brooklyn from Queens, and every  single last one of them will land you in mind-numbing traffic, which has led me to believe that driving in Brooklyn is a form of real world punishment for any truly horrible sins you may have done. Using a combination of directions offered by sites and my GPS, I’ve managed to sit in traffic on 6 different routes. The trip to Brooklyn is kind of like entering a black hole, there are all these roads leading you into Brooklyn, but once your inside they disappear and you spend the rest of your life playing stop-n-go on Eastern Parkway… or if you’ve truly done some wrongdoings in your life….. LINDEN BLVD.

On day 2, it took me an hour and a half rendering me late to which my boss quipped “ I thought the work scared you and you quit”.  I almost replied “speaking of quitting…”, but given my knack for confrontation avoidance I decided to push that convo off till Friday, when I’m not expected in, so I could have the conversation as serious conversations are meant to be had – over the phone, or better on her voicemail. I’ve definitely improved on my confrontational issues, because I used to have my best friend, who happens to sound just like me on the phone,  call and quit for me, so I could completely avoid the situation and pretend it never happened. Come to think of it, I wonder if she’d hook me up with that favor tomorrow…

So instead of quitting on day 2 I continued what I’d begun on day 1, understanding the intricacies of the proper method of folding outgoing mail, and the other assistant’s recommendation for the best method of paper-clipping client files. Today I spent an hour teaching her how to create a signature on her e-mails (sincerely? Yours? But what if I want to write something different for each client? Arial or Times New Roman? Oops, I x’d out, how do I get back in?), but I guess training can be a two-way street….

I’m not being fair though because there were perks to the job… it’s the first office I’ve worked in where there is always fresh-brewed coffee in the pot, even late in the afternoon. And they had Equals. I hate Splenda, so I have to give props where due. The bathroom had toilet paper covers so that was nice too. But I don’t mind squatting, because I’ve almost got it down to a science, and it makes me feel like a feminist. I can’t think of any other perks, but I’ll just emphasize that the coffee was really, really good.