As most of you probably know, Borders is dying. They call it - in official terms - liquidating. It is sadness.
It's not as bad for me because I'm leaving for school in the fall (more on that later) but I know in December I'm going to come back and it's going to hit me like a brick falling out of a speeding dumpster.
I'll probably cry. Just a little bit.
I'm kinda' hoping Barnes & Nobles will put in a bookstore after we leave. There are not many bookstores in our area. The closest one is close to forty-five minutes away from me. Not cool.
Annnnnnnd... You learn that there are two kinds of people in the world.
1) The kind that are sad for you, and wish you luck. They thank you for always helping you and make you love life. They share with you the books they love and encourage you to expand your interests and learn more, even if you end up losing your job. And it is amazing. And you love people. And you want to give customers hugs, except for the scary men that stare at you through windows...
And you know that it's going to be okay. Until...
2) The people who call as soon as they find out your closing and want to know what's on sale. The people who ask if they can buy it now and return it later for the sale price. And you say no. And you wonder if they're on drugs. And there is the one customer that snickers at you because you are losing your job. Or they scream at you across the store to ask when you're closing. And you want to hit everyone and scream at them and you wonder what on earth people are thinking. Maybe they all starting sniffing glue and just aren't in their right minds.
(according to Google)
This is what my customers were like, apparently.
But life will go on and God will provide and we'll find our way from here. So we just have to remember to hold onto the number one customers and disregard the others. (And here I would normally say, Shas La Na, but as it is in a language that does not exist I will instead just run away and leave now.)