Clumsy sot of a daughter finally quits hell hole job no. 2

What kind of daughter stumbles into a 24 hour grocery store looking for a Father's Day card at 1 am, technically the day after Father's Day? Me. I suck. I am the lowest of the low. I "went out of my way" to go to this 24 hour grocery store, thinking they would have the cards left...cause hey! It's Sunday!

I wander aimlessly and finally find the card section. What the hell! There are no Father's Day cards. Um. Do I buy a blank card? No...they'll know something is up. And blank cards are always mushy on the cover, or suspiciously...well. Blank. Or how about a "missing you" card? No. They were all tacky or romantic. One even had a missheveled bed on the cover. That won't work. Um. Ok. So I bought two shitty duck cards that were a combo of "Missing you" and "Thanks" and well, the ducks are supposed to be funny. My addition to the wonderful one liner is going to be, "HA! If this sorry loser can make money writing for Hallmark, or American Greeting, or whatever the fuck company they are writing for, then there's no WAY I should be unemployed. I could make MAD cash writing stupid cards!
Love,
Your twit of an semi-unemployed, lazy-assed, procrastinating, sot of a daughter."

I am going to send them soon. (But I have been thinking of both my dads all day and called them too, so I'm not all that bad).

I finally "quit" Ella's.
Events:
I was pissed off all weekend, cause they are over staffing and I am walking away bitter and broker than I should be.
I hand in my drawer to the manager on duty who has told me in the past 4 weeks (each time he sees me) that he will fix my schedule so I stay with the bar...etc. He'll do whatever it takes, give me night shifts, etc. In reality, nothing has changed obviously.
I ask as I hand in my drawer, "So. If I were to hand in my notice, would you need something in writing, or can I just tell you that I am giving you my two weeks?"
He's all like, "you can just tell me..."
I'm all like, "Ok. I am giving my two weeks."
Silence, he goes on working and shit like I didn't just open my mouth and say, "Ok. I am giving my two weeks."
"I'll work out the next week's schedule for you, but you obviously don't need me to work the entire two weeks. There are people here that eagerly want to get behind the bar."
No emotion other than the fake ass corporate attitude I've gotten for the past 4 weeks... "Yeah, there are."
"Ok. So I will work for you next week and then I'm done."
Then some bullshit about how it's nothing personal, but I'm not getting enough to pay my bills, etc. (Why can't I just stop when it's appropriate?) He winds up the session by acting like he always does. Does nothing phase him? How can he be so callous? They'll miss me! Oh, will they miss me. FUCKERS.
So, I was like, "See you next week!" And I took off.
So. It remains to be seen if I'll actually go in for the last week of my stay at Ella's. But I am this close to being done.