Dear Diary...

2

Dear Diary,

I work in retail, so I have to help many people of all different types. Today two older ladies came in looking for a very specific pair of pants.

The first thing they said to me, as I was refolding panties, and my name tag was in plain view was "do you work here?"

My first thought was to say "no, I just have obsessive compliments urges to fold panties at store X"

Though it would have been funny, I stayed corgile and helped them find the brand name and size, but being a warehouse store, we only had capris. Not full length pants.

Because of this they scoffed at me and told me that I needed to order more. When I tried explaining to them that I am just a part time sales associate and cannot order anything, they huffed and puffed and went on their merry way.

I continued as normal. Everything seemed fine. Then I cut my finger on something I was picking up to put in its place. A flash of red went through my head as my finger barely bled... I remembered the past time I cut myself.

After 20 minutes I finally got the imagery out of my head. I felt sick to my stomach by now. Even more so because I forgot to feed myself at all today.

Now I have to go back into my sister's house and smile. Ots a good thing I am a good actress, because the smile hides the tears that I'm shedding beneath the surface.

I hope my boyfriend is having a nice time with his friends. I'm not quite sure what they are up to tonight. But anything is possible, especially since they graduated highschool yesterday.

I'm so proud of them all. I wish his friends could accept me though. Whenever I'm around, they tend to avoid me unless I go up to them and talk. I'm always polite. Friendly, even. I guess you can't win them all.

I wish that I still had close friends... I guess that's what happens when you get older...