There is a smell coming from maybe extruding that is so bad I want to vomit. It is like Grandma’s perm times 12. Some kind of chemical they use. I feel my nose wrinkle every time I go anywhere near there.
I’ve been hoofing Honda returnables all around the building most of the day. Almost 18,000 steps.
Errr, sooooo…I have a phone call at 3:00. But this time, I swear, they found me. Through Indeed.
Material planner—like what Ray is, I guess. Temp for 12 months with possible extension.
I mean, I’m not going to take it. It’s only a temp job. I’m happy where I am.
I’m waiting for something upstairs. I know everyone here. And I’m finally starting to get somewhere.
But, while I wait, wouldn’t it just make good sense to practice my interviewing skills? I haven’t been on an interview since…July.
No. I’m not doing it. I just won’t answer my phone when she calls. Is that terrible?
I want to be here. Not anywhere else. This happened for a reason. I can’t ignore that. I must follow my gut. My heart.