Who are these two classy chaps? Well dear reader, these are my two best peeps, my main men, and the most common characters in my stories to come: Reilly and Caitlin. (Please don't be offended by these drawings my darlings, I'm trying to bang them out like a public masturbater, so I can't spend forever on them.)
Hell bent on an epic change of scenery and a dire need of a steady cash flow, I applied at our local plant store. Mmmmmm yes, Master Yoda, only ten minutes walk from my house, it is. After stringing me on for over a month, I finally got my interview. I was already in an unsettling state of moratorium, trying to suss out if Michaels would be the best option. For those of you non-psyc kids, moratorium is a state of mind in between decisions, where the sufferer is pulled in different directions by different choices and needs to make a commitment. It is genuinely stressful.
Despite my apprehension, I was perky, well dressed, and had set the Cari-charm to stun. It was going so well, until my interviewer put me on a cash register. I had done cash thrice tops at Michaels, and it was like watching a bird fly into a window and proceed to be ripped apart by a feral cat while still alive and making heart breaking screeching sounds. I just don't do well with technology. It had touch screens god damn it! How am I supposed to provide excellent customer service, identify plant species, do basic math, and key in codes when I can hardly use a normal computer? I think it was apparent to all that I am not meant to be a cash monkey.