and that's that.

I just e-mailed my boss at the first job a letter telling him that I quit. I was going to call, but I figured that as far as paperwork goes, he might need a letter anyway (Wawa did) so I might as well just send him one and tell him how I feel. I thought that it might be childish, but in the end (with the help of my BFFF) it was determined that as a boss he might want to be made aware of some of the things that were going on inside his store that made me feel unwanted, and that the actions of the staff have consequences.

What it all boiled down to was the fact that I did not move down here to be unhappy, so I didn't see any reason to keep a job that was taking me in that direction.

Somehow, though, I still find myself sitting here wondering if it was the right decision.

****

Yesterday as I was walking by some dwelling-challenged kids and their dog, I made the mistake of looking at the dog. One of the boys asked if I could buy them all a slice of pizza, and I replied with the standard, "I don't have any money." This is a true fact. I really do not have any money at all. What the boy said next surprised me, though. He told me, "well, they take credit cards inside." I kept walking back to my car, but something about the entire thing shook me up. Part of me wanted to go back and blast him for thinking that was an acceptable thing to say to me, and kick him in the face for being an entitled little shit, and the other part of me wanted to run as quickly as possible to my car, lock the doors and speed away. I don't know why it was such an unsettling exchange or why I ended up so creeped out over it, but it impacted me enough to make a bunch of changes, including no longer taking my purse to work and purchasing a can of mace and a self-defense key-ring.

I wasn't even that shaken when LB and I got lost in the wrong part of Brooklyn this past summer.