Nah, this isn't one of those ridiculous overly liberal anti-Wal-Mart screeds. Those are the same people who bitch about Wal-Mart constantly but still sneak in there every weekend to buy wine coolers and scented candles. Screw 'em, they're part of the problem. People complain about Wal-Mart changing communities and ruining local business, but they have only themselves to blame because they chose to shop at Wal-Mart. If they really cared that much, they wouldn't give that new Wal-Mart any business at all and it would have to close down, right? But they always go there, and hence the corporate bloodsuckers survive.

But anyway I'm getting off topic. What was the topic again? Right, my rotten-ass job. I work at Wal-Mart and it sucks. That part is not a myth. I mean, sure we get benefits, but the pay is nothing special and the people I work with are nothing special either. They're a bunch of boring whiners who for some reason think I'm interested in their lives. I'm not, I don't need to hear about it. Let me get my work done. That's the only reason I'm there. You know the way you feel when you've just struggled through a difficult test or assignment or something and you feel mentally drained? That's the kind of exhaustion I feel just from dealing with people. If I could I would never leave my apartment except for groceries and eating out because it's not worth the stress.

It's not like the work is really hard. It's the same stuff I did for four years with Kellogg's, stocking shelves. Fairly simple. The problem comes in when the managers finally decide what the hell they want to do with that feature pallet at 6am, when you're ready to finish up. It comes in when I'm working with some self-important asshole who thinks he's a real macho badass and wants to brag to me about how nobody else at Wal-Mart messes with him. Real impressive. I wish this guy a dozen bucks in the face from Applejack and a pink slip. And then he can go back to whatever city he came from where his behavior is considered acceptable. This is Minnesota, big shot, keep that crap out of here.

So what else is wrong with my job? Well, the bosses aren't that bad, but they don't really understand what we're doing. They haven't worked a whole night on the sales floor in years and if they did they wouldn't be bothering with this "work one box of product every 60 seconds," "work with a sense of urgency" crap. Nine dollars and change an hour doesn't buy you a sense of urgency. If you're really lucky and you have an employee as good as me, it buys you a job well done, but that's it.

I realize I'm typing better than many people you see on the Internet, but I assure you I am drunk. Or as close to it as I get, this is my fifth beer.

What else is troubling me? Oh yeah, the feeling of working at the job. Like I'm not good enough to be anyplace better than this. I have a goddamn college degree. I should be applying for jobs that deserve me. Instead I sell myself to openings for which I am blatantly overqualified. Just because I don't want to work in journalism doesn't make my journalism degree worthless. It limits my potential certainly, but...I must be missing something. Maybe it's my self-esteem problem, I feel like I don't deserve anything better. But NOW I do. Maybe it's the beer.

I really need to quit.

If you're reading this, thank you for indulging in my inebriated rant. I was due for one, you know how it goes. What do you think, should TailsAlone have one more brew? I don't know, I'm pretty gone as it is. I have nothing else to say so I'll just post a picture.

Hey, that's Roma, the pony Pinkie bought tomatoes from.

You know what the first part of her you noticed was. Admit it. And validate my twisted nature!

November 10th. It can't get here soon enough. I wonder if I'll still be working at Walmart by then. At this rate, I doubt it. Nobody appreciates the quiet man anymore.