Eight days a week

What kind of idiot wilfully imposes an every-day schedule on themselves? This one, that's who. So now I'm working four days a week at The Restaurants (lunches), and three nights at The Bistro. This is probably going to be way worse than all of the doubles I have been working. Still, I've been able to save up a bunch of money, and I told myself when I had saved up 5K I was going to quit one of the jobs so I can ride my bike all day and write for more money, which was the whole point of moving to San Francisco.

Boozely tells me he'll pick up weekend shifts for me at The Bistro, and I wouldn't want to quit there because I just started. Plus, the shifts are SHORT (last night: 2.5 hours. Tonight: 3.5 hours), and the money is good. It's less than at the old restaurant, but the clientele at the last place were mostly young and middle-aged gay men who threw money at me when I shook my curls and said "Meritage," or "Dry Creek Valley." But the stress of working under the crack-addicted management at the last restaurant wasn't worth all of the gay tips (I once got a grab-bag of M.A.C. cosmetics for a tip!). I'd rather make less money and get to:

-Bring my mom to work with me (day one. She was in town visiting and came in for dinner at the bar on my first night, staying for three hours). This same night, I had two tables come in and request me. One was the owner of theCafe du Nord, who I have known since moving to San Francisco since he backed over my bike with his truck when I was working at O'Reilly's Holy Grail for a minute. He bought me a new wheel and I realized chivalry wasn't dead after all.
-Come in a half-hour late to work (day two). I was shopping in Union Square and lost track of time. I excused myself and promised it wouldn't happen again.

-Cut myself at 8pm (day three, today). I was tired and grumpy and wanted to go home and they let me, with no questions asked!

I can't believe how easy it is to work at The Bistro, and how nice and laid-back everyone is. Plus, the food's great, and lots of famous people come in all of the time and tip well.
But at The Restaurant, I'll make an obscene amount of money once I get moved to nights, and I'll get health insurance after five more months.
What's a girl to do?