My Feet Don't Hurt, I Hate This Job... repeat after me!
I'm updating this diary almost more often than I change underwear! Notice I said ALMOST??I ran around job 2 with the biggest of smiles on tonight, all the while whispering to myself "my feet DO NOT hurt, and, I hate this job, I hate this job." "my feet DO NOT hurt, and, I hate this job, I hate this job." Then, I would crack open the tight-lipped face and say, thank you, happy holidays. (the whole time thinking: screw you, shop at Kmart, and I hope Rudolph poops all over your roof and down that chimney!) I don't know why I bother to complain about it, I can't afford to quit that joint. Oh well.. let me just say, my feet are K.I.L.L.I.N.G. me. Throbbing. Burning. I know... whaa whaa to me. Bah Humbug.
I am throwing together a "cheer up" package after I update. A co-worker is just really having a hard time in her life. Menopause. I'm tellin' you, it's menopause. Everything in her life - home and work - has just about spun out of control for her. The common thread to it all - no matter who or what - the dreaded period. It either never starts for her, or, never ends. I feel for her, I really do. So anyway, I bought some cheer up stuff. Candy, bath salt, things like that. I want to try to write a little story/poem (which I'll suck at) incorporating all those little things into an "I'm here for you" type spiel. Won't that just be a bust. It'll suck and she'll probably end up feeling worse about it all than she does now. But hey, I gotta try.
I'm just finishing up my bowl of mac and cheese that - oh yeah, I made last night for lunch today - oops, which I didn't get to eat because things were crazy at job 1, so I took it for supper to job 2. And, well, short 7 people at job 2 tonight, so, well, I'll eat it when I finally land my fat tired actress at home. **sigh** Honey, I'm home.
I'm off work, both jobs, tomorrow. That's right, I'm off. Yep, that's what I said! (see me dancing a jig?) I hope to sleep in til AT LEAST 8. I will do the "cheer up" run to co-worker, then I need to repot about 4 plants, do laundry, do general pick up of house and then.... I'm laying my fat actress down for nice nappy pooh. I'm not answering my phone and I'm not answering the door. That's right, I'm on - vacation! :) Boy does that ever sound good. I work Sunday, Monday, Wednesday and Thursday this next week. OH.MY.GOD. The week of Christmas. Retail. There aren't even enough 4 letter words in the English language to describe to you how that's going to go. Tonight, over the walkie, someone asked me my location. I told them I couldn't say that over the walkie. When I found her, I told her I couldn't beller out "in hell" over the walkie. But it was hell. PC, you've been in our new store - 205,000 sq ft. One of the biggest ones they've built. Now, imagine running all over that place for 7+ hours. I should be thin as a rail, but I'm not quite there yet. By the time next week is over, I sure could be though!
Ok, I better get this little poem thingy written and get myself to bed. I'm absolutely too pooped to pop tonight. Have a great night ladies.
The heart remembers best what it loved the most.
� grizmom at
2005-12-15
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