Sell our blood by the pint to make rent

I'm so sad.  No, I didn't yet learn the outcome of my prestigious grocery store interview - there is still hope for that.  But my scheme of letting my body passively earn me $60 a week has been crushed. 

Don't get overly excited, I wasn't contemplating prostitution.  I have this weird thing about personal space and not liking to touch strangers, so that would never work.  No, my intentions were much more noble.  I was going to sell my blood plasma twice a week.  It was a grand plan, until I found out that the plasma bank in town closed its doors a year ago.  Curse this internet for keeping abandoned websites active and findable forever.  I have spent the last hour searching for plasma centers within a reasonable driving distance, to no avail.  I probably should have spent that time looking for real jobs, but a girl can take only so much rejection.

I'm going to go practice organizing things now, in case the grocery store decides to hire me.  I don't want my right-angling skills to get rusty.  Actually, the more I think about it, the more I realize that stocking shelves is the perfect job for me.  I really love putting things away and I obsessively straighten objects in my own house, so why not get paid for it?  I mean, come on.  I should have just come right out in the interview and told them "Look, guys, I think I have OCD so if you hire me to keep your store organized, I get money and you get a super organized store.  Everyone wins.  End of interview, I'll just be filling out my I-9 form now."