My Commitment Problems

This past summer, my commitment to working retail was seriously questioned. I have worked at a few retail locations throughout my college career. They give awesome discounts and I can demand to be scheduled no more than 10 hours a week.

My boss at Joes Jeans, whom I'll call "Kerrie" because that's her name, called my allegiance into serious question.

I asked for the the week of the 4th of July off a month prior to my scheduled trip to Lake Powell. Then I found my name on the schedule.... I went to chat with Kerrie.

Me:I don't understand why I am on the schedule.

K: Well next week is the 4th of July so it's going to be busy and we're getting a huge shipment so you have to stay and help.

Me: Right........ So like I said, I'm going to be in Lake Powell next week..............

K: Mark asked for time off too and he didnt get it off either.

Me: Well Mark is the assistant manager, he is more invested in the store than I am. I barely work ten hours a week and get paid next to nothing. One of the only reasons I work here is because of the flexibility (and amazing discounts, but I didn't say that).

K: Obviously your commitment to Joes Jeans isn't up to the level I thought it was.

Me: Wait.... when exactly did you get the idea that commitment existed between me and my part-time retail job?

K: You can't just not show up for work.

Me: That's why I asked for it off a month ago.

K: Well, you're not allowed to take any time off next week.

Me: You're not my mom.

(I blink and look around the backroom)

Me: I'll let you know how awesome Lake Powell is when I get back.


But she showed me. When I came back my job, along with any devotion or commitment that may have existed, was gone. Now whenever I want a discount I have to bake the other coworkers cookies so they will purchase jeans for me. amen.

Meet Chucky

• He is my awesome and adorable kitten.
• He is only about 20% evil, which is remarkable for a cat.
• He has only made me bleed once.
• He is named after the infamous doll Chucky

The first day I brought him home he was too scared to come out of our expertly designed bathroom.
Notice, if you will, the light pink painted cabinets paired with the farmhouse sink circa 1984.... Perfection. I know you're probably wondering if there is light pink tile to match, and yes, there certainly is.

I've never had a pet indoors before and I am a little anal when it come to a clean house. I brush him for at least 15 minutes everyday. I also wipe him down with waterless cat shampoo at least once a day.
An apricot fresh kitten smells way better than dirty buttholed kittens, which is also why I have kitten wipes to wash his butt after he dumps.

Plus..... Chucky LOVES Butt Doll.

I could watch him rape it for hours. Precious!!!

Belly Molestation

When I found out I was knocked up I had a few pressing concerns.

Initially, I was most nervous about (in this order):

1. Being responsible for another human
2. Belly rubs/molestation
3. Not being able to sleep on my stomach
4. Stretch Marks
5. Childbirth - not the pain, but more the fact that tons of people are totally going to see my kooter.

For some reason people's hands gravitate towards pregnant woman's stomachs. I'll admit I'm guilty of doing it too.

I am fiercely protective of my personal space and was FREAKED out by the idea that people would want to fondle my unborn child.
So I had big plans to derail any unwanted belly touching.
I had lay awake many nights and fully mapped out the following scenarios:

• Woman rubs my pregnant belly - I was going to rub theirs for the same duration

• Man rubs my belly - I yell "Rape!!!"

• Kid rubs my belly - I hit them in the face with it

And I was going to make this shirt -BUT.... it turns out I kind of like the belly rubs and they aren't awkward at all.... weirdly unexpected. And I feel dumb. amen.