Just because you smile while you say something shitty doesn't mean you're being nice.

Oy!
I've been avoiding writing about my stupid job because I'm trying not to think about it. But I suppose I should get some of it out before a damn blood vessel bursts in my head and I have a massive stroke or something.
So yesterday I gave two weeks notice to the girls because they pretty much pissed on me one too many times. If you want a little taste of what I'm talking about, you can read about it here. Anyway, D. as usual, talked to me like I'm a moron and scolded me for not doing something that I had, in fact, done. (What it was is unimportant to the story, but rest assured, the task was mundane.) So I told her in the past year that I've worked there, I haven't felt like she has been happy the work I have done, and that perhaps they needed to find someone who is a "better fit" for their store. Her response to me was, "What I can't figure out is how you have worked here for a year, but haven't managed to do anything I need you to do."
At this point, I'm convinced that she's a fucking lunatic. That's the only explanation for this statement. I haven't done anything they have needed me to do? When I arrive at this piece of shit store each day, do I somehow leave my body behind to stare blankly into space while drool drips onto their fake wood floors while I imagine helping customers, selling product, opening boxes, fronting and facing bottles, sweeping the floors, pulling expired shit, and doing everything else they tell me to do on a daily basis?
Anyway, some more words were shared, mostly me trying very hard to be diplomatic and kind (by not mentioning the laundry list of shit they have done and said that I felt was uncalled for, rude, or just plain hurtful) and her saying, "Well, if that's how you feel..."
So I went in today and had to contend with A., who wasn't there yesterday. The whole day was like Passive-aggressive Theatre. Can one be passive-aggressive as well as create lots of drama? Without a doubt! A. managed it perfectly. She started out being overly nice to me, almost disturbingly so. Then it moved on to, "Well, I guess I'll have to look for a new employee thanks to you. Ha ha." To which I replied, "I'm sure you'll be able to find someone that's a better fit for your store and can do the things that you need done better than I can." (Yes, being too nice and diplomatic again.) A. then proceeds to tell me that it's probably a good thing that I quit, since they were going to have to fire me anyway, because I wasn't doing what they needed me to do. Again with this! Many, many more words were spoken between her and I after that, hers were mostly shitty and very anti-Leigh (but in a nicey-nice way, disguised as criticism or something), and mine were of the "can we just move on?" variety.
I tried very hard to be the bigger person, and I believe I am the bigger person in this trio of shit. Of course, there are bad people everywhere who do bad things all of the time, and I bet most of those people think they are the better person too. Nobody thinks they are a bad worker, or a bad person, or a bad anything. They all have their justifications of why they're not a bad-whatever. But I honestly feel that I am not a bad employee, a bad friend, or a bad-anything else. I just wish I would have better known these people I called "friends" before I agreed to work for them. My real friends would never say things so cruel and hurtful as was said to me today.
But I kept my cool, man. I really kept my cool. I was confident and strong when speaking to them. I portrayed a girl who felt she was right. And I'm really proud of that. But the negativity hit me hard later tonight. It weighed heavy on me to the point that I could barely breathe. I like to take a shower when I feel like that, because I imagine the water washing all of the bad shit off of me and down the drain. I scrubbed at my skin until it was pink just to get it all off of me. Then it hit me how I felt. The last point in my life that I was ever told by someone that I was no good, was during the Mike years. I started remembering the feeling of being lifted off of the ground by my neck and being told that I was a worthless bitch over and over, just before passing out from lack of oxygen. This made me bawl in the shower. Big, heaving sobs were coming out of me so hard that I just sat down in the tub and let them come. The good thing is that I know the difference between now and then: I don't believe I'm a worthless bitch now like I did back then. And I don't believe a word A. said about me, either.
I am a good person, who honestly means well. Even if I do say the word "shit" too much when I'm angry.
So now my job hunt has been moved to red status. At this point it would be completely impossible to live on just Ken's salary (unless we moved into a cardboard box and started eating rock soup- which I suggested to Ken, but he's suprisingly not into it) So I need something pronto. Suggestions are welcome. Right now I'm considering painting my face and heading to the park to do some mime-work.