I have officially finished my first night of work serving at the Social Club. They gave me a daiquiri shot in the beginning ("First Day Daiquiri," the bartender called it) and something called a Washington Apple (disgusting) at the end. They offered me a free meal for my first night, with the caveat that no other meals would be free ever again, and I didn't have the heart to tell them that Aaron brings me home free food all the time (forsaking his legally free meal and giving it to me, because he is too skinny and I am too fat and we like to keep it that way*).
So, as it stands, Sundays will be my off day from both jobs (if anyone asks, I'm devoutly religious but really, I just want time to fuck my boyfriend), Mondays will be opening at the shop and closing at the restaurant (approx. 14 hours), Tuesdays and Wednesdays will be at the shop (8 hours each), Thursdays will be opening the shop and closing the restaurant (approx. 14 hours), Fridays will be another off day unless they need an extra person at the restaurant (approx. 8 hours), and Saturdays will be closing the shop (approx. 8 hours). Let's add that up! So that's my 60 hour workweek. Pile the internship
stuff on top of that and here's what you have: a Morgan who does not have any time to think about how morbidly depressed she actually is (as evidenced by my two tantrums today). I could waste money on Zoloft or I could cut down on my tv time; today, I choose the latter.
*Not really. Sidenote: Aaron asked me the other day if I think he's anorexic, seriously. I said no, you're just depressed. Saaaad. Saaaad. We have issues that we are going to ignore and instead of dealing with the fact that neither of us is terribly fond of life, we're going to blame everything on our location and move every few years. Healthy AND functional! [/sarcasm]