So. I had a good run as a sporting goods clerk/gun salesman/issuer of hunting/fishing licenses. And now I'm working nights - 10PM to 7AM.
Doing what?
Inventory.
No joke. 40 hours a week doing inventory.
The past week was rough as hell but I've pretty well adjusted. My brain thinks this is Friday night. It thinks Friday afternoon was Thursday night.
I've completely thrown all sense of time out the window. And I'm okay with that.
Why'd I change jobs, when guns are a huge interest/hobby/source of relaxation and entertainment for me?
The economy blows. And my store was cutting hours in a huge way. I basically went from full-time to... maybe sixteen hours a week. Sixteen hours at $8.60 an hour (minus taxes) comes to...
I could pay my rent. If I shut off my electricity, internet, phone, canceled my gym membership, and stopped eating, using water, and smoking.
So fuck all that.
Besides, with the post-Obama gun craze, I was really getting sick of dealing with customers. I'd get some jackass walking up to my counter asking for "Assault rifle ammunition." Eventually I got so fed up with it that I said "Yeah, it's right next to the Smith and Wesson shells."
That said. Working nights opens up a big possibility. I'll be available during the day to go to college. Finally. And get some friggin' direction in my life instead of being a $9.20 an hour wage slave.
