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Jun. 25th, 2005 05:33 pmYAY BEST DAY EVAR. =D
It started most auspiciously when I woke up before my alarm under the impression that it was Sunday. Yeah, I know. So when my alarm went off, I turned it off and tried to go back to sleep.
Luckily, my brain kicked in a few minutes later: "HI YOU MORON IT IS SATURDAY AND YOU HAVE TO WORK TODAY." ". . . Really?" "YES REALLY. GET UP."
So I did. This was mistake number one. I got online for a couple minutes to discover that the Tigers lost 2-1 last night. Not recognizing the universe's suggestion that I ignore my brain and go back to bed, I got dressed and left the house.
I arrived at my bus stop a good fifteen minutes early. I try to be extra early on Saturdays, because the bus only runs once an hour instead of the every twenty minutes schedule on weekdays. So if I miss the bus on Saturday, it makes me an hour late.
Somehow, some way, in spite of my early arrival, I missed the bus.
I DON'T KNOW.
I got to work eventually in what was fast becoming the seething heat. Seethingly hot Saturday = very busy store. Whee.
So, I was very busy. And stuck listening to country. Well, until one-ish, at which point I convinced my manager to let me put on the game ("You can't listen to the game, you get too excited and swear too much." "But - I've been so good the last couple of games! I won't swear! Please?" ". . . okay, but first curse and it's off.").
A couple hours later, when I cashed out to go do other things (which means YAY no more stupid customers!), to Sox were up 5-0. Feeling good, I headed out for a cigarette.
And then I spotted next week's schedule.
Corporate has cut hours again and I AM WORKING THREE DAYS NEXT WEEK. What the fuck am I supposed to do with THREE DAYS? How is this enough to live on? Why the fuck do I keep getting screwed on schedules (hi, McDonald's, I still hate you)?
I'm not totally fucked; there is a Cumberland Farms near my home that I can probably pick up some extra hours at. I've resisted transferring there because I like my coworkers and regulars, but this is insane.
I might transfer. Or, fuck it, you know what I've got open in another window? A website advertising for envelope stuffers. I might do that. From where I'm sitting right now, it beats the shit out of continuing to work for a company that has no interest in paying me, or in treating its manager fairly (because, yeah, guess who suddenly has a much harder workload because her only regular weekday morning person has to be cut to three days a week? Yep, it's Lori).
Actually, it beats the shit ouf ot this job period. It pays way better, it does not involve dealing with noronic jackass customers, and I don't have to get up at five in the morning to do it. True, it's crap work, and the website frankly has more exclamation points than I am altogether comfortable with, and oh look a registration fee (hello, alarm bells clanging madly in my head) but why the hell not? Anyone have any thoughts on this?
Edit: Yeah, or maybe not. Amazing how instructive a few minutes on Google can be. =P
It started most auspiciously when I woke up before my alarm under the impression that it was Sunday. Yeah, I know. So when my alarm went off, I turned it off and tried to go back to sleep.
Luckily, my brain kicked in a few minutes later: "HI YOU MORON IT IS SATURDAY AND YOU HAVE TO WORK TODAY." ". . . Really?" "YES REALLY. GET UP."
So I did. This was mistake number one. I got online for a couple minutes to discover that the Tigers lost 2-1 last night. Not recognizing the universe's suggestion that I ignore my brain and go back to bed, I got dressed and left the house.
I arrived at my bus stop a good fifteen minutes early. I try to be extra early on Saturdays, because the bus only runs once an hour instead of the every twenty minutes schedule on weekdays. So if I miss the bus on Saturday, it makes me an hour late.
Somehow, some way, in spite of my early arrival, I missed the bus.
I DON'T KNOW.
I got to work eventually in what was fast becoming the seething heat. Seethingly hot Saturday = very busy store. Whee.
So, I was very busy. And stuck listening to country. Well, until one-ish, at which point I convinced my manager to let me put on the game ("You can't listen to the game, you get too excited and swear too much." "But - I've been so good the last couple of games! I won't swear! Please?" ". . . okay, but first curse and it's off.").
A couple hours later, when I cashed out to go do other things (which means YAY no more stupid customers!), to Sox were up 5-0. Feeling good, I headed out for a cigarette.
And then I spotted next week's schedule.
Corporate has cut hours again and I AM WORKING THREE DAYS NEXT WEEK. What the fuck am I supposed to do with THREE DAYS? How is this enough to live on? Why the fuck do I keep getting screwed on schedules (hi, McDonald's, I still hate you)?
I'm not totally fucked; there is a Cumberland Farms near my home that I can probably pick up some extra hours at. I've resisted transferring there because I like my coworkers and regulars, but this is insane.
I might transfer. Or, fuck it, you know what I've got open in another window? A website advertising for envelope stuffers. I might do that. From where I'm sitting right now, it beats the shit out of continuing to work for a company that has no interest in paying me, or in treating its manager fairly (because, yeah, guess who suddenly has a much harder workload because her only regular weekday morning person has to be cut to three days a week? Yep, it's Lori).
Actually, it beats the shit ouf ot this job period. It pays way better, it does not involve dealing with noronic jackass customers, and I don't have to get up at five in the morning to do it. True, it's crap work, and the website frankly has more exclamation points than I am altogether comfortable with, and oh look a registration fee (hello, alarm bells clanging madly in my head) but why the hell not? Anyone have any thoughts on this?
Edit: Yeah, or maybe not. Amazing how instructive a few minutes on Google can be. =P
