My Brain on Any Given Day

I may have mentioned once or twice that I seem to suffer from ADD. (Although I still think this disease is a hoax designed to keep children from eating sugar and to pump them full of prescription drugs) Anyhoo, if you ever wondered what goes through the mind of this ingenious crazypants, here’s a peek…

“I wonder  what  people see in my blog? It’s just me babbling on about silly nothingness. 1,3,5,7,9. I really want to give a blowjob right now… I should stop and get a caramel roll tonight from Mom’s Cinnamon Buns. I wonder if she put butter on her buns before she cinnamoned them? I bet Dad probably liked that. It made it much slippery-er, I bet. Hee Hee!!  Ooh! Michael Jackson’s playing! The way you maka me fe-eel! It really turns me o-on. Ya knock me offa my fe-eet. Hee hoo! I wonder if Michael was circumcised. Now I am sad, because he’s dead. Sad Day. Oh, Jesus. Here comes a Fromalian who won’t doesn’t speak English. I’ma just gonna go in the back here and let Frenchie take their order….Hmmm. I think that when I get home tonight, I will have to slip into bed naked and just kinda stick my hand down my Rockstar’s boxers and see what’s happenin’. I shall rub my boobies against him and suck his face off because he really is the bestest kisser! Yay, me! 3,6,9,12. I should really finish my short story that Gillian Colbert requested of me. Escpecially since I said I’d have it done last Sunday. Oops! Oh! But I forgot I started writing a new book! It’s all written in my head, I don’t know why I just don’t sit down and write it. Ugh, but I cannot think of a good female  name for the main character. What’s a good name that doesn’t sound like it’s from a book…Jenny. No. I hate that name. How ’bout Kelly? No, ‘cuz Rockstar said that’s a bitch name. Of course he would say that since that’s his ex-wife’s name. I still can’t believe she is a kinda model. He was married to a kinda model, and now he’s stuck with me. I wonder if he depressed about that. She was all tall and shit. But he said she had no ass. I gots an ass. I gots a rock-n-roll booty, he says. I think that he was drunk when he said that. I should NOT buy any shoes this week, but oh! I think that I cannot resist! But I MUST resist ‘cuz I gots to save money so we can buy a house and have a purpley bedroom. 2, 4,6,8,10. Curmudgeon. Why did I think of that word? Curmudgeon. what a very fun word, I say! Curmudgeon. I think that I do not know what that means, but I must look it up on the Wikipedia! Wikipedia is so very informative. I learned all about Dimebag Darryl on there. And then that sad song Zakk Wylde wrote for him after that guy shot him in the brains. I think that Zakk Wylde is not as creepy as he wishes people to think he is. He’s really very fun, and hot in a grungy un-showered sort of way. I’d do him, if he was layin’ there naked. Hmm, let’s see if anyone wants to talk to me today. Ooh! Delightful sent me a text! She is so lovely, and I’m so glad that I met her! We shall be great friends. And her boyfriend is so very lucky. She is lucky too, because he is very cute. La la la! I am feeling very musical today! Oh, yuck! Customers. That’s that one lady. She is such a crotch. Haha! Awesome is so funny when she calls people crotches! Squish! I CAN squish my boobies through these carts to get what I need. They are very adaptable.”

Yeah. I know. Not the highly intelligent thoughts you were expecting. I can’t be having thoughts on how to create world peace ALL the time, you know…

Because Tomorrow Is Another Day…

Oops, I mean today is another day. If you want to be technical and all.

My day yesterday didn’t really start out so great.

Maybe it had something to do with the fact that I lost my pants.

No, I did NOT have my Rockstar around to rip them off of me, if that’s what you thought I meant.

I meant that I couldn’t find my extra pair of work pants, and my main pair was dirty. I didn’t have enough time in the morning to throw a load of laundry in before work, so as I stood there pants-less, I washed the dirty pair by hand that I dug out of the mountain of dirty clothes that has accumulated (because I’m working 11 hour days now)  and proceeded to  dry them with the hair dryer. (Very classy) Then off to work I went.

I am quite certain that my foul mood throughout the day was at least partially due to the fact that my Rockstar has been in South Dakota since Friday. I miss him, and I am becoming increasingly horny at every moment. So when I  was working as a Pizza Slut today, and it was very busy, and the cook we had is evolving from a turtle (I’m quite certain of this) and I found out I got to close with Little Miss Attitude tonight, it is quite understandable that I (to put it mildly) was ready to strap a bomb to my chest and blow the Hut to smithereens.

The very special highlight of my day was when Delightfulness came in to do her orientation, and I got to give her a hug. (Two, in fact.) Her smiling face and fierce glam-rock outfit made me happy. And then she went away. And the day returned to Hell.

Oops, Frenchy forgot to schedule another server. More money for me- or so we thought. We proceeded to (in Awesome’s words) receive the ass-pounding of our lives, complete with short-staffedness. This in itself would not have been such a disaster, (since I don’t mind a nice ass pounding every now and then) but the fact that Little Miss Attitude was “managing” meant that I got to spend the night doing everybody else’s jobs.

(Little Miss Attitude is 18, and attempting to procure her place as a shift-manager. The only reason she is still semi-managing is because I haven’t had time to do all my training yet. She spends her shifts eating Cinnamints, standing around, babbling about God-knows-what to anyone who will listen, and generally bossing people around while maintaining her laziness. When she becomes angry, or upset, her language shifts to Ebonics, and no one can understand her.)

After the harshest part of the ass-pounding, I tried my damndest to get my shit done and get the hell out of there. Sadly, people kept streaming in at various intervals; the dishes were so piled up in back I could not add one more plate to them; and the phone kept ringing.

While I was cleaning the John(s), a couple came in and stood there for several minutes. Little Miss did not acknowledge them in any way, nor did she find it necessary to come and tell me there were customers to wait on. When I came out of the loo, I apologized profusely to said customers and gave them extra superb service. Then I went in back to throw about a billion dishes in the dishawasher.

When this couple came up to pay, the two other people working did not feel like getting the register, and so yelled for me. (Because apparently I’m the only one who can help customers) The couple asked where the manager was, and commented on the fact that I seemed to be the only one actually doing work. (I’m glad someone noticed.) The woman informed me that she would be making a call to Frenchie in the tomorrow to inform him of his misfit employees. Then back to the dishes I went.

I paused for less than thirty seconds at one point, only to have Little Miss berate me and tell me to get going on my shit. Yes. I blew half a gasket. I informed her that I was working my ass off and she told me to quit my attitude. (Insert expletive here)

After I had most of my duties accomplished, Little Miss informed me (for the third time) that many boxes needed to be folded before I departed. I did quite a few, and then thought “You know what? I have to be back here in less than 11 hours. I shall do more boxes in the morning.” Little Miss went on to say that 100 more boxes needed to be folded, and I informed her of my plan to do them in the morning. She said, “I don’t care what you’re going to do in the morning; they need to be done tonight. If you don’t do them, I’m gonna write you up.” Fuckin’ write me up.

In general, I believe that when a manager tells you to do something, you should do it. In fact, I think that you should go above and beyond what is requested of you. That may be the reason I washed 200 dishes when that was not my job to do, and did my best to leave the store as clean as I would leave my house, despite having worked a 13 hour day with no break, (or meal). But I’m sorry. If I say that I will do whatever it is that is requested, (even if I plan on doing it the next day) and I get told I’m going to be written up- FUCK THAT SHIT. I left.

Tomorrow (or today) will be better. Because it couldn’t possibly be any fucking worse.

P.S. I cannot be completely disappointed in the day. I DID make $107 in tips.

P.P.S. I would like to state that this post is not a complaint. It is stating  fact. I appreciate having a job when so many others don’t.