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Interviewed this morning for a position. It went well. But, after much nervousness and practicing of answers, they didn't ask me any questions. They just sort of talked at me.

Forty-five minutes later, they called me and asked me to come back for my second interview. Five more minutes of talking at me. Any questions? No. Good. I have the job.

I HAVE THE JOB!

When I walked into work to hand them my letter of resignation, they wouldn't accept it. After all the dreadful things that you have said to me/done to me, how can you not let me quit?! Expecially considering I am giving you my two weeks, not just walking out the door.

I actually had them wimpering. WIMPERING! Asking me to stay. While this is sweet, it isn't enough. At all.

I AM LEAVING! Yeah, baby.


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This odd narrative is my life. I ended up in Pittsburgh, of all places--from the beach. I have no hobbies, other than cooking excessively and eating microwave popcorn. I enjoy shopping, the Food network, hiding the remote so the Food network cannot be turned off, find ethnic food stores and restaurants and reading voraciously. My life is decidedly pedestrian.


I worked in the car business where I was required to be ruthless and soul-less wench, which is when I started this project. Since then, I've kept it up because secretly, I've always wanted to join the military. Every male in my mother's family has joined and I quietly entertain thoughts of joining. I haven't yet and don't know if I ever will, but sending the troops cookies keeps me sane. it makes me think I still have a shred of human kindness left in my withering soul. it's a small way for me to salute the men and women who are brave enough to fight for freedom. And makes me feel like I'm contributing toward troop morale--even if I'm not. So if you want to help, send me addresses of troops you know stationed overseas. you may also contribute toward the cost of chocolate chips, but don't feel obligated, that link is here only by request.


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