Eventually, Todd gave me an ultimatum (which may or may not have been in direct relation to the scotch incident): find a job by the end of March, or... Or what? I'm not sure; it wasn't exactly outlined very specifically in the conversation. I suppose I would have gotten a Lecture (they're terrible) and been forced to apply to Burger King or Old Navy -- two of the worst available places to work in my town, in my opinion. Either way, it got my rear in gear enough to start submitting an application every day -- from online, from the local paper, asking businesses downtown; anything I could think of without actually going door-to-door. Eventually the job just about fell into my lap.
As of Saint Patrick's Day, 2011, I am officially employed by a local optometrist as an optician-in-training, or optician's assistant. I file things. I un-file things. I answer phones and make calls and sign for boxes that the FedEx and UPS men bring in the mornings, after my first cup of tea but before my lunch fruit. I meet interesting people. I get yelled at by the doctor (to be fair, he kind of yells at everyone who works for him). I adjust glasses (sometimes). I am learning to do big-girl activities like file insurance and other things I don't understand yet.
Be proud, readers. I am now (finally) a real-life Productive Member of Society.