Thursday, October 14, 2004
I journeyed to the mall with applications I returned to a bookstore, a cafe, and a joint that sells college-kid clothes (with accessories, of course).
I loathe malls. When I grow up, I never want to work in one. Malls are communist. The other night my manager put something on a shelf, but she said she really thought that something ought to go elsewhere, where it would be more accessible. Instead of taking initiative to put the something somewhere else, she simply put it where the corporate office instructed her it belonged. This sort of idiocy makes me want to hang myself. I've never had to read Food Nation; the subjugation of free-enterprise is self-evident.
After reading another essay about Modernism, I feel confidently informed to write a lengthy paper rehashing the author's postulations as my own. I might inject a theory or two, but the professor won't know the difference.
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 4:46 PM]