Could You Please Direct Me to the Virtual Unemployment Line?
I got fired. Dimples and Cap’n Firepants don’t know yet. Actually, I don’t think Cap’n Firepants will really care. It was only a part-time job anyway. He’ll be happy that I have more free time. Well, until he learns the free time is for my blog.
Dimples, on the other hand, is going to be disappointed. She’s the one who got me the job in the first place, and pretty much taught me everything I know about it. She’s pretty savvy, that kid.
It’s not that I didn’t like the job. It was kind of fun. Only slightly demanding mentally, and really not physically demanding at all. But it was 24/7, and I was getting a little tired of my alarm going off at all hours of the day.
O.K. Confession time. I was a store manager. A virtual store manager, I should clarify. Of a fashion store. On my iPad.
Do not dismiss the stress such a job can cause. It is quite wearying to constantly have merchandise coming in that you need to hang on the racks and out on tables. Then you have to order again. If you don’t take receipt of your merchandise in time, then your orders expire. If you let too many orders expire, then your racks and tables are empty, which, of course, means you can’t earn any money. Not that you’re earning money anyway.
And then you have to make sure your store is outfitted with all of the necessary furniture, dressing rooms, cashiers, etc…
Not to mention the constant P.R. I have to go out and visit all of these other people’s stores to get them to come visit mine. The marketing alone was killing me.
I couldn’t keep my iPad in the bedroom at night, because it would keep ringing with notifications from my store about items that had arrived and people who had liked me or sent me gifts.
Over the Labor Day holiday I was at The Dictator’s Ranch with Spotty Internet Access. The only way I could hitch onto the 3G was to wave the iPad above my head while I sat in the swivel armchair, stuck my tongue to my nose, and held my breath. I realized I was willing to do this to update my blog, but not for my fashion store.
So, just like that, I stopped. I checked my empty store one more time when I returned home, saw all of my expired orders and the new available outfit that I didn’t even like, and walked away.
I don’t know what happens in situations like these. Will my neighbors loot my store? Will my virtual cashier sue me for nonpayment of her virtual salary? Will virtual kids in India lose their jobs because I’m not ordering their cheaply made clothes anymore?
And just for the record, I GOT FIRED.
Alright, I fired myself.
Unemployment doesn’t have to know that, right?