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A Year in Books - 2009-12-27
Skip Tracer, Loan Detective - 2009-11-22
New Job - 2009-11-03
The coleslaw got served. - 2009-10-21
Probably a new job. But maybe not. - 2009-10-08

whining, and then not so whining
2001-10-11 11:32 a.m.

This is it. I have reached the point of TOO MUCH WORK. I've already got three 9-hour shifts under my belt, and I'm still looking at least 24 more hours this week. I'll hit overtime at 9am Saturday morning. The week ends Sunday. I may not get another day off till Wednesday or so.

I went down to the House last night. Usually a few hours of smoking myself silly and hanging out with people who I don't work with are enough to get myself back into a relatively sunny disposition. Not this time. I woke up today, and my first conscious thought was, I've got to go back there in less than 24 hours.

It's just not enough.

And it's not helping that business has sucked. I worked 9 hours for $60???? Are you fucking kidding me?

It's like, the remote possibility that I might not have to do this for the rest of my life means I now don't want to do it at all.

Oh, but what if I've screwed myself by not trying to get a real job years ago? What if now the only thing I'm qualified for is more waitressing? And more waitressing. And even more waitressing.

***

I'm sorry. That was total whining. I really don't like doing that.

But, today I've simply got to do laundry, buy groceries, and do the dishes. There's a whole bunch of other domestic crap I really should do today too, but I don't think I'm going to.

I'm so fucking tired. I was in a better mood last night, even before going to the House. I was all sleep deprived and slap happy. Nine hour shifts??? Six of them??? BRING IT ON, BEEYOTCH! Bwhahahahaha!!! I was too tired to be anything but tired. Now, I'm wide awake, and I'm fucking exhausted.

***

Oh, wait. That's more whining again.

Let's talk about next Tuesday. All the money that the restuarant takes in is going to be sent to NYC. If you buy your coffee for 74 cents, that entire 74 cents is going out east. No profit for Nick at all. He's running at a loss that day, because he wanted to do something for the disaster relief fund. Cool, huh?

There was talk of the waitresses being forced to work for free, and "donating" (note the sarcastic quote marks) all their tips too, but thankfully, that was determined to be crazy talk. It's on a personal choice basis. I think we're pretty much agreed to give the wages, because waitress pay is a joke anyway. But it is like $20-25 from each of us. That's awful damn white of us, you know.

Depending on how I feel at the end of the day, I might slide some of my tips into the jar too. I haven't decided how much yet. When I thought this was something I HAD to do, I was pissy. But since it's my choice, and I've had a few days to think about it, I can't really say I need the money more than they do right now.

There was a story about it in the local newspaper yesterday. Sue told me once that the newspaper editor was a complete moron, but I thought she was exaggerating.

There are two different dates that this is going to happen mentioned in the story. The headline is wrong. And either I've been spelling the family name wrong for a year and a half, or it's wrong in the story.

OK, I just checked. The phone book is backing me up on this one. I mean, come on. How could you not bother to check the spelling of the name of the people you're writing a story about???

Lusy was all excited. She's going to send the paper to her mom in Switzerland. I'm glad she's so happy about it, but I'm really a little pissed off. Would it have been so hard, to proofread a little?

It is a nice story, though. Very sweet, and lots of quotes from Nick being patriotic. If you have the opportunity, pick up a paper this week. And come in on Tuesday.

Small town life is so funny. Last night, pretty much as soon as the paper hit the stands, we were flooded with calls. Did we know the dates were wrong in the story? Had we put any posters in the windows, so people could know what was really going on? Did we want the third grade teacher to print up a notice for all the elementary school students to take home with the correct information?

Isn't that sweet? Warmed my heart, anyway. This must be what people are talking about, when they say there's a good side to living in a small town.

Hmm. I'm somehow not nearly in such a pissy mood anymore. Thanks for listening. Time to get today started.

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