So I have officially quit my "job." My supervisor called early yesterday afternoon (note: I was still in bed) and I told her I really didn't think it was working out.
The afternoon I left the job I had a cheeseburger and then went home and slept for a couple hours (which I never do, I am way too fidgety and insomniac for that); I knew unless I made some more sales I was being fired anyway. I think I was just relieved it was over.
The next morning, as soon as I started talking about it, I panicked. I had no job. I was going to have no money and starve to death and mother will be so disappointed and and and. I was literally blinking back tears and glad that there still are no videophones. Then I went to the library and checked the U of T Careers website (which had a couple of weeks before been a ghost town of jobs I could actually do) and found several good jobs listed, and I spent the afternoon writing cover letters and applying for things.
The day after that I journeyed far and wide to drop off applications, buy theatre tickets and eat sushi.
The next day I slept in and ate waffles and then went over to Alex's house to watch Zelig.

In other news, this is turning into antisocial summer, partly because it is also very poor summer. I am okay with it, but should nonetheless watch less TV and read and write more.