At the beginning of the 19th century soda water consisted of nothing but water, a little soda, and sometimes a bit of flavoring. Soon someone thought to force gas into the water and to keep ut there under pressure, the soda water sparkling and foaming when the pressure is removed and the gas escaptes. The soda was kept under pressure in cylinders that came to be called soda fountains and were often quite unsafe, for when dropped the pressure inside them cound case a tremendous explosion, which happened once in awhile, according to newspapers of the day. At any rate, the sparkling, popping soda that came out of the fountains probably was responsible for the name pop, for 'soda,' long before soda was bottled. Soda pop or pop, is not recorded in the language, however, until the early 20th century.
~QPB Encyclopedia of Word and Phrase Origins.
I dunno if I want to call this lady tomorrow and schedule a second interview (two interviews for a damned clothing store? what the hell?) or if I want to just .. beh.. go elsewhere.
I really don't think I want to call her back. Because, well... they work on a sales basis. You sell more, you get more hours. You also get a per purchase percentage and an overall sales bonus percentage.. but basically, you compete with your co workers for hours.
And the people at the top of the sales chart are only getting 20 hours a week or so.
MOST people are getting under 10 hours... and apparently they have *alot* of people working there.
That sucks and I don't want that.
But I really need a damned job.
But well, I need a job that's going to give me hours.
And one in which I don't have to wear the clothing store's current line of clothing all the time.
So I'm conflicted.
I have too much Tom stuff on my brain. Because, well, it's one of those things. If he were here, he'd have the perfect job, the perfect way to get it, and the perfect thing to say to make everything okay.
Even if he fucked up lots of times... he'd get it eventually. heheh
I just miss him so much. I know I keep saying that. But it's just because repetition might make it big enough. Because those lil words... they don't match up. They ... they just don't make a dent in the feeling. I haven't been whole for a long time now.
And when I sprinkled those ashes out the window going 80 through the richey neighborhood I felt like maybe I was healing.
But it wasn't that so much as... that's the first time I let myself really feel that he was dead. It was the first time I *knew* it.
I don't know if I want people reading this now.
beh. Why not, ya know? I don't fear opinions or eyes. ::shrug:::
It's just not my thing, ya know? Being emotionally revelatory. I don't really do it. For good reason. I have inumerbable good reasons why I don't do it.
And all those reasons are exactly why I *should*
see... there's the fucking 'should' again.
Jason used to say that I should have just ended things with him way back at the beginning right when I knew I wasn't happy.
Allie told me I should have told her the moment I was annoyed with talking to her.
Will always said that I should have just shut up about my misgivings and just... accepting things and not fought back when my life with him went wrong.
And I'm always kicking myself over what I should have done.
somehow I have to figure out how to stop worrying about all the variables and just do what I do.
I need money.
I need to save.
I then need to drop out and just fucking go.
go go go.
until I stop going.
And then .... I'll stop.
Oooooooooh how *deep*, huh?