I'm tired and my eyes hurt from crying all morning.

Frank is a fucking asshole, by the way.

I tried to comprimise. Me and the morning lady tried and tried to comprimise for the matinee tomorrow.

But no.

He won't.

"She has to make a choice," he says.

I say, "Fuck you and fuck the fucking store."

That's what I say.

I should have listened to Sidney.

But I didn't.

Because I wanted a job.

Stupid fucking job.

And now I have a better job.

And I'm not going to work tomorrow. There is no way in hell anyone can drag my to work. Because I won't. I just won't.

I went to Mike's after work and cried and cried and cried and he hugged me tight, and then gave me money for pads and a pair of little leather dance slippers I saw (only $.99! Normally the're about $70.00, and these weren't even worn enough to fade the writing on the inside or scuff the toes).

That made me happier.

And then I won a stupid Nintendo game, which I expected to be longer.

But I won it in under an hour.

I'm not surprised, but it was surprisingly confusing for a child's game.

...

Fuck work.

Fuck Frank.

I'm not going back.

...

I warned Debbie, the morning woman, that if I couldn't find anyone to take my shift, that I wasn't going to show up. She understood and wished me luck. I thanked her and told her I really enjoyed the time I spent working with her (she'd be a really good boss: likable, respectable, and give praise when it's due, not only criticism).

...

Oh, and Mystica is back in town. We bitched to each other about our problems. It was nice.

...

I'm so poor, it makes my stomach hurt.

Before&After