work, work, work

I have been working for years at low-paying, go nowhere jobs, trying to finish some schooling so that I no longer need to do these low-paying, go nowhere jobs. And instead of picking something and sticking with it, I have decided to go back to school, again. Really, it is all my own fault. I have hemmed and hawed and travelled a bit, gaining much knowledge going nowhere except to provide some excellent round the dinner table chit chat.

This week has been a great reminder of where I am in life...depending on who I meet. To those who just meet me and do not know that I am a file girl/waitress/student, I can come across as very accomplished, full of purpose and an inner drive that will take me far. To the self-involved barbie girl who cut my hair the other day and called me 'hon' (even though I was obviously not impressed that she left me in my chair with soaking wet, half-cut hair to talk to her boyfriend on the phone for almost 10 minutes), I was not very impressive at all, apparently.

There's really not much point to this here blog, I really just wanted to publicly complain about my hairstylist.