rightangles: (little prince falling)
[personal profile] rightangles
So, I may have gotten a job at Best Buy.

This is good news, since I'm not sure how much longer my bookstore will be open. Borders, as you may or may not know, is liquidating. I think my little store that I've come to love over the past four years has, at most, another three or four weeks. It's sad, but I've come to terms. We have to move on.

So I applied to a few stores for retail positions. I also sent in an application for an editor position, but I have little real experience, so as much as I'd love that job, I don't think I stand a chance. But Best Buy called, and I went on the first of three scheduled interviews, and the guy liked me so much he called me back five minutes later to do the last two interviews with the higher-ups. The general manager, a woman named Sharon, said I was the best interview she'd had in she couldn't remember how long, because I have both smarts and a personality, and she thinks I'll do really well there. So she hired me on the spot, offering me nearly $2 more than I make at Borders for a position that has less responsibility than my current one. Good deal, right?

I'll be a sales associate in digital technology, which is their umbrella term for things like computers, cameras, and e-readers. I'm a little worried that I'm going to fail miserably at sales -- I'm not the most outgoing person in the world, and Best Buy has apparently adopted some new strategy that involves employees trying a more personable approach to customers. So instead of saying, "Hi, how can I help you?" when I walk up to a customer on the floor, I have to say something like, "Hi, my name is Matt, and I love your shirt!" Cheesy, right? I'm not sure I can do it, but I sure as Hell am going to try.

In more exciting news: I felt an earthquake today! 5.9 on the Richter scale, epicenter somewhere in Virginia, just south of Washington, D.C. I was just waking up when it happened, so I was in that half-asleep, half-awake state of semi-consciousness. I felt my bed shake, and I thought perhaps my cat had jumped up with me, but when I looked, no cat. I remember thinking, "Well, maybe she's underneath the bed and pushing on it down there," which now that I think about it is the most ludicrous thought probably ever to cross my mind. But like I said, half-asleep, half-awake. Anyway, after that, I got up to pee, and I remember walking to the bathroom and standing to pee and thinking, "Jesus, I'm really dizzy. I hope I'm not dying." But I finished peeing and went back to bed. I didn't realize it was an earthquake until I got to work and my co-worker Barb was like, "Did you feel the earthquake!?" Well, Barb: Yes, yes I did!

Summer is still in full swing here, and it's exhausting. There're bugs everywhere, it storms all the time, it's always ridiculously hot out, and the sun is so effing bright. I definitely have that feeling in my bones, that ache for winter. I miss cool nights and snow and holiday decorations. I miss cuddling up under a big, heavy blanket to read while listening to Christmas music. I love that! This will be our first Christmas in the new house, and it's going to be exciting. There's going to be so much snow! We have such huge yards here, compared to the postage stamps we had downtown. Very exciting.

I don't know why -- I'm 28, I'm supposed to be past my sexual prime, aren't I? -- but I have been exceedingly frustrated and, to be frank, horny as of late. This may have something to do with the fact that there are hot-bodied men everywhere I look -- on the Internet, on television, in games, everywhere! The strangest consequence of this increased frustration is this: I see so many people now at the mall that I have to restrain myself from growling at or jumping on the spot. These people aren't even attractive! But they still make me tense in all the right places. It's bizarre. There was one guy who had long black hair and a tattered wifebeater. He was dirty, downright dirty, and I had to bite my tongue so I didn't purr. Maybe it's pheromones...

I'm also frustrated with my writing. I won't say too much here, since I have a whole journal dedicated to writing, but I'm having trouble with a short story and therefore doubting everything -- my capabilities, my suitability, my ideas, myself. I want so much to be good at this, to have people who read my stuff and love it, to get published... but it all seems so far out of reach. Frustrating!

I haven't blogged very much the past few years, which is sad. Since I moved home, nothing ever happens to me, so I never have the dire need to blog. Not like I did when I had Josh-and-Craig drama every weekend, as it was in Pittsburgh, and certainly not like I did when I had Jon drama every day, as it was in Boston. I say I have nothing to say, and so I don't write an entry, but I'm going to make a concerted effort to blog more often. I miss talking about myself and my day, and even if no one reads, I find it relaxing. It's therapy, really.
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