A Chapter a Day

…Ok, well, a chapter a week. I’ve committed myself to finishing at least one chapter of the book I’m writing every week. It’s not that much of a commitment since it’s a pre-teen fantasy novel and the chapters are pretty short. Still, I feel it’s a positive first step. I’ve been incredibly lackadaisical about finishing and submitting it, considering I’ve had most of it finished since I was 16.

However, since it was written when I was 16, it means I have to re-write most of it now before I’m–I can’t say confident, since I will never be that, but perhaps–comfortable submitting it.

It’s been a whole two weeks since I’ve made the commitment, and so far I’m coming through.

Here’s to another chapter in another week! Feel free to keep me on track.

Huddle House Hustlers

After my briefest stint with a company ever, including freelancing, I quit Huddle House. My optimism was not entirely ill-founded; I did, in fact, like the job. We had a couple annoying kooks, but mostly they were harmless and fun. And even the normal customers are a little more chatty and fun than they are at other restaurants.

However, the owners are crooks.

The minimum wage laws for tipped employees are slightly more complicated than normal: they only have to pay $2.13 an hour, unless that salary plus my tips equals less than minimum wage, in which case the employer is legally responsible for making up the deficit.

Rather than doing that, however, the owners log into the computer and change the tips I reported to make it look as though I’ve been getting minimum wage. In fact, I’ve been making about $2-$3 in tips, bringing my grand total in a good week to about $5 an hour. It was aggravating before; since minimum wage has gone up, it’s infuriating. And my attempts to communicate my frustrations with the owners were rebuffed.

So now I’m attempting to get the government to do something about it. Wish me luck.

In the meantime, if you live in the Clemson area, don’t go to Huddle House. If you must go to a diner, go to Waffle House. It’s cheaper and, at least to my knowledge, the owners aren’t scammers.

But no matter where you go, remember, your tips are not a favor. They are your server’s lifeline. Since minimum wage has gone up and your server’s base wage hasn’t, 18-20% should now be your standard tip.

Thank you, please come again.

Waitressing Woes and Standing on the Brink

Working at Huddle House is both better and worse than I thought it would be. The job itself is pretty cool. Business is slow during the week, but it’s still kind of fun. The management, however…

Well, I expected to be treated as subhuman when I took this job, but you expect that from the customers, not from your employer. Not only are they anal about the dumbest things, but they’re also doing something illegal, of which I will go into greater detail later once (hopefully) the situation is resolved.

However, in the meantime, I’ve been helping with articles for this awesome new website for Christian (or questioning) twentysomethings. They’ve already got a load of awesome articles on there (one by yours truly) and information about their devotional / small group study magazine. As I said before, it’s even more amazing to be working on a project as worthwhile as this when I’m stuck in the Huddle House rut.

Go check out the site. It’s awesome. And if you’re interested in writing articles for the site, shoot me a message.

Fries With That?

It was difficult being unemployed and unable to find any kind of work. In an odd way, though, it’s even more discouraging beginning a new job when that job is waitressing. It seems like when I was unemployed there was at least the hope that I might find meaningful work somewhere, but now I’m just kind of stuck making ends meet. It’s too easy to picture myself as the 50-year-old taking my money at the drive through, stuck there because she’s unemployable anywhere else.

However, when my discouragement was at its peak (low?), God intervened and sent me work through Randall House. Yes, I waitress. But I also freelance. I still have useful talents besides pouring coffee, smiling pleasantly at the unpleasant people, and asking how you want your eggs cooked.

I’m still the anal grammar goddess set on changing the world, one comma splice at a time. I’m a writer and an article idea tank.

I’m still me… and I’m thankful for the opportunity to use the skills I have… while also having the opportunity to support myself and my husband.

Bound for Earth on July 4th

I’ve probably already mentioned the wonderful game system controller Steve got me that plugs in to my computer’s USB drive. If not, it’s awesome. I finally beat my first game: Earthbound.

It wasn’t exactly the best game ever made, but it was a lot of fun and had a surprising ending.

After I got the gaming out of my system, I went to Aldi (that wonderful haven of cheap food goodness) to get some stuff for the Fourth of July pool party a friend is throwing tomorrow. I’m making no-bake cookies: tasty lumps of chocolatey, peanut buttery, sugary oats. After all, as I’ve said before, there is no better way to celebrate than utter gluttony. Especially on this most American of holidays, what could be a more fitting way to celebrate than packing two weeks’ worth of calories into one fun-packed day?

Happy Independence Day, all!