Not a great way to start a post, but I'm in a horribly blah mood today. I didn't have a great weekend. I haven't gotten squat done at work today. I've been here 7 hours and did about a half hour's worth of work.
My horrible mood is tied mostly to that damned pizza place and the losers who work there. I am so sick of that place, what it does to me physically and emotionally, how it utterly fucks up my life, how ugly everyone treats each other. Dr. Phil says you continue behavior that has a payoff. I wish I knew what payoff working there gets me. I know I've been afraid to move on. Even though I hate it, it has been job security. It's been a relatively steady paycheck. I keep saying I need the job longetivity if I have any hopes of ever getting my mobile on land. If any of those was the reason, it's no longer enough. This past weekend was the final breaking point. I am consumed with getting away from there.
I was sick on Saturday and I went in and tried to do dough, but after puking 4 times, I decided it wasn't worth it and left. The dumbass manager is supposed to do dough (if he's got time) if I can't. Well, they had time. He didn't do any of it. I still felt icky on Sunday, so I only managed to get Saturday's dough done. As a result, I ended up working Monday. Stupid manager never got back to me on my suggestion to not have both food orders show up on the same day. Loser. So, I did 20 batches just to prove to dumbass that if I do enough dough to take the day off on Tuesday, the food order will have problems fitting. We'll see how that went. If he is pissed about it, though, he'll never tell me to my face. He'll try to sabotage me some other way.
Since the store was closed for the holiday, as with every other holiday that we're closed, if I make dough I have to go back later and downstack it. After hosting a BBQ dinner for Dad, Marcus headed back over to the store with me to keep me company while I downstacked all of that dough. Who do I find there when we arrive? Dumbass manager. This is the same loser who complains that he can't get a day off from that place. The same loser who has no friends and no life except that place. There was nothing he could have been doing that couldn't have been done during his every other waking moment he spends there. Since he was there, though, would it have been that hard to call my cell and say that he was there so I wouldn't have to waste time and gas to drive all the way across town? Apparently so. I'm so sick of the lack of respect that he has for everybody. I was so pissed about the whole thing that I didn't even feel like going out and looking at fireworks. I love fireworks. Asshat.
Sales are also down. I'm going to make less than $800 gross on my next check. When I used to make $1100 in a pay period, that's bad. I also figured out that I'm making more dough for less money. They used to sell more "extras" that figured into my salary: pop, salads, wings, etc. They don't sell squat in the pop department, the new wings suck and they no longer carry salads. They're also selling alot more carry-out pizzas, which are priced cheaper. It totally bites. The stupid owner also can't advertise his way out of a paper bag. The whole chain's sales are down and he doesn't do anything about it.
I've been bitching about that job forever. It's time to bite the big one and get away. I've promised myself that I'll be out by my birthday of 9/11, but I think I need to do it before then. It'll be nice to have clear lungs and self-respect.
I had to write the rent check with the increased lot rent in it last night. That also did nothing to improve my mood. I really want to move. I don't think Marcus believed me the other day when I told him I was in a throwing-out mood. I want to get rid of the clutter in my house and my life. We took some stuff to storage and brought back other stuff to toss. It made him very happy.
There are also some issues going on here at my new job. Job security is not something I have here. I knew that coming in, though. So, I must get my act together while I want to, not because I have to. I could be making so much more money and be happier.
My horrible mood is tied mostly to that damned pizza place and the losers who work there. I am so sick of that place, what it does to me physically and emotionally, how it utterly fucks up my life, how ugly everyone treats each other. Dr. Phil says you continue behavior that has a payoff. I wish I knew what payoff working there gets me. I know I've been afraid to move on. Even though I hate it, it has been job security. It's been a relatively steady paycheck. I keep saying I need the job longetivity if I have any hopes of ever getting my mobile on land. If any of those was the reason, it's no longer enough. This past weekend was the final breaking point. I am consumed with getting away from there.
I was sick on Saturday and I went in and tried to do dough, but after puking 4 times, I decided it wasn't worth it and left. The dumbass manager is supposed to do dough (if he's got time) if I can't. Well, they had time. He didn't do any of it. I still felt icky on Sunday, so I only managed to get Saturday's dough done. As a result, I ended up working Monday. Stupid manager never got back to me on my suggestion to not have both food orders show up on the same day. Loser. So, I did 20 batches just to prove to dumbass that if I do enough dough to take the day off on Tuesday, the food order will have problems fitting. We'll see how that went. If he is pissed about it, though, he'll never tell me to my face. He'll try to sabotage me some other way.
Since the store was closed for the holiday, as with every other holiday that we're closed, if I make dough I have to go back later and downstack it. After hosting a BBQ dinner for Dad, Marcus headed back over to the store with me to keep me company while I downstacked all of that dough. Who do I find there when we arrive? Dumbass manager. This is the same loser who complains that he can't get a day off from that place. The same loser who has no friends and no life except that place. There was nothing he could have been doing that couldn't have been done during his every other waking moment he spends there. Since he was there, though, would it have been that hard to call my cell and say that he was there so I wouldn't have to waste time and gas to drive all the way across town? Apparently so. I'm so sick of the lack of respect that he has for everybody. I was so pissed about the whole thing that I didn't even feel like going out and looking at fireworks. I love fireworks. Asshat.
Sales are also down. I'm going to make less than $800 gross on my next check. When I used to make $1100 in a pay period, that's bad. I also figured out that I'm making more dough for less money. They used to sell more "extras" that figured into my salary: pop, salads, wings, etc. They don't sell squat in the pop department, the new wings suck and they no longer carry salads. They're also selling alot more carry-out pizzas, which are priced cheaper. It totally bites. The stupid owner also can't advertise his way out of a paper bag. The whole chain's sales are down and he doesn't do anything about it.
I've been bitching about that job forever. It's time to bite the big one and get away. I've promised myself that I'll be out by my birthday of 9/11, but I think I need to do it before then. It'll be nice to have clear lungs and self-respect.
I had to write the rent check with the increased lot rent in it last night. That also did nothing to improve my mood. I really want to move. I don't think Marcus believed me the other day when I told him I was in a throwing-out mood. I want to get rid of the clutter in my house and my life. We took some stuff to storage and brought back other stuff to toss. It made him very happy.
There are also some issues going on here at my new job. Job security is not something I have here. I knew that coming in, though. So, I must get my act together while I want to, not because I have to. I could be making so much more money and be happier.
Cheap Trick—She's Tight
Name: LaDonna
