Every now and again at Best Buy, the District Staff will make the treacherous journey all the way from Indianapolis and grace us pee-ons with their presence.  In preparation, store employees are encouraged to brush up on certain information about their department’s goals, intentions, etc…because eventually,  a District Staff member will saunter up and expect you to answer questions as to how you, an underpaid hourly, is working diligently to meet The Company’s bottom line.

Because of labor cuts, I was the only one working my department from 10am-1pm.  I shined up the department real purty and began the work day knowing I was very capable of a successful assessment.  And then, suddenly…*sniff*..wha..what’s that I smell?  Excuse me, sir, is that Corporate you’re wearing?

..And the thing that pissed me off about the whole thing is this:  He made no attempts at gentle conversation.  He basically just got down to brass tax and fired questions peppered with business jargon!  I can handle that, and I did.  But  you’d like to think that he’d inquire about my current situation: am I a student? How do I like working here?  Instead, I felt like I was giving some sort of oral presentation.  Maybe he just saw that I was completely busy, or maybe he just wanted to get it over with.  It doesn’t matter.  I still kind of resent him for being so disconnected.*

I called my Mom and exploded, “FUCK THAT GUY!” I exclaimed.  “All he cares about is his fucking bottom line!”

But Moms have a way of putting things in perspective, and my mom is no exception:
“Jenny, for most of your life, you are going to have to deal with Suits not giving two shits about what you think.”

She went on to talk about how two sides of my personality will always be in conflict — the creative/emotional side and the business saavy side.  I just need to find a job that attempts to include both.   Somewhere way, way, way, way in the back in my mind, I kind of want to start my own business.  I have no idea what I would actually pursue.  But I planted this seed, and it’s kind of just swimming in my head, right next to the seed labeled, “Maybe I Should Write a Book.”

Another burst of restlessness has definitely arrived.
I need to get the fuck out of here.
I stayed in Bloomington after graduation because I wasn’t ready to leave — now I feel like I’m at a party where I’ve stayed too long.

* A manager mentioned that said District Staff member was “very impressed” by me, which sweetened my bitterness.  A little.