You see, I work at a fucktastic job. I'm a host in a fancy Italian (That's i-TAL-ian not EYE-tal-ian) restaurant for $8.50/hr. I also wait tables at banquets for who knows how much, because it all depends on the size of the tip.
Now, this week, I am on the schedule Monday thru Friday from 11AM to 1:30PM (lunch time). Unlike previous schedules, I am ALSO on the schedule for Tuesday thru Thursday 5PM to 8PM (dinner time). Now, when one is on the schedule, one generally assumes that one is supposed to WORK those scheduled hours. But apparently this one was incorrect in that assumption. It seems that the dinner schedule is just a "if there are alot of reservations you can come in, if not, don't" sort of thing. And here I dumped plans that I'd made for Wednesday night because I thought I was supposed to work. Said plans involved theater tickets which I have now given away.
I am Klae's bile, boiling up to overflowing.
This life sucks. S U C K S. And while yes, I realize that I'm making more money getting jerked around that I would jerking it at home, PLEASE just be mortified for me. It makes it easier when folks say, "Oh my god, you have to do THAT for work?" and I'm the one that gets to pretend to be an optimist and say "Hey, at least it's a job." When someone says the latter part first I have nothing to do but put on a fake smile and say, "Yep" and then go try to wash the stank of feeling sorry for myself off.
And since I'm on this tear, I might as well just keep shaking my fist at the heavens while shouting, "I've suffered long enough, dammit! Give me something good."
Going outside to have a long talk with the sky