I hate my job.
OK, I don’t hate my job that much.
But I hate my job.
They treat me well. Mostly. They understand that I have depression. That sometimes I just need to cry before I can function. I get pretty much all the days off I ask for. My bosses are fun and funny and easy-going. My environment is as positive as a retail environment can be.
But it’s retail, for one. It’s not for me. It’s my Just Over Broke occupation. It’s not my career. But I feel like I’ll be stuck there forever. There, where they write you up for being sick. Where they pressure and pressure and pressure you to get credits and shops, etc. Where the store manager always seems to be yelling at or talking about you. I can’t deal with that thought. I don’t want to be a cashier all my life.