It’s officially been a year since I started working for my hospital but the view never fails to take my breath away. It’s things like this that make it so hard to think of leaving California.
But it’s been a year. Everything must go.
No one else will ever truly understand your pain.
Because at the end of it all, that’s the only thing that’s ever really yours.
Ironic that this video has no sound when it was taken at a club called Sound. LOL! Ah, good times with my littlest roomie.
Totally in love with MAC’s Media lipstick. It’s the perfect winter red.
The potential business consequences of paying fast-food workers a higher wage
Okay. So I don’t come off as totally heartless in my upcoming diatribe… I do think that the amount stipulated for minimum wage needs to be reassessed as a whole if we’re going by its basic definition of a “livable wage”. $8/hr is hardly that - especially with the exorbitant taxes and cost of living here in California.
That being said, if you don’t want to make minimum wage, then you should probably be working in an industry that pays more. And I’m sorry to be the harbinger of bad news but that’s never going to be in the lower tiers of the fast food industry.
You can’t expect to be paid more slapping burgers into a bun and manning the drive-thru as compared to soldiers who risk their lives for our country or people who studied for years for an opportunity to work entry-level at some firm.
So how how do you get out? Go back to school, chase that internship, put in those extra hours and push yourself to achieve more. Because the only person who decides how much you’re worth is really yourself.
I came, I saw, I CONCORD!
America, I love you but I weep at the state of your people’s basic spelling skills.
Also, I think I have just resolved to never marry a man that does not know the difference between ‘your’ and ‘you’re’.