rachg82

Guess who doesn't work for the next two days (as of now, anyway *crossing fingers*)? Yep, that would be me. I'm glad. Tonight was, well, ugh. Like, that's the word for it. Just ugh. I was feeling really tired. Like, physically, I mean. And, for some reason, I got all anxious before-hand (and for a bit, while there). It's weird, you know. Because you'll go for a while not having to fight the anxiety anymore, and being able to do certain things relatively easily, then one day, for no apparent reason, it'll be an issue again. I was in a rush to get ready on time, too, and sometimes that kind of thing will worsen anxiety for me in general. I mean, if I'm already a little wiggy, additional stress will just make it worse. But, it was all right.

Except I did end up clocking in at 5:08, when 5:06 would've been the last minute I could be considered on time. Remember that I could be fired at any time, if they decided to do so. And I got lectured only a short while ago, about the importance of being on time. So, um, right. I'm trying not to worry about it, but it's hard. I think a bit of my tiredness all night was from stressing, and feeling a bit depressed. I feel better now, though. So it's okay.

Work was kind of a bitch, though. There was supposed to be some new girl tonight, but she didn't show (and called in, last time, too. So she's getting fired). Frowney was going to work, but then got the night off, same with Justin. So it ended up just being Rick in men's, and me and Margarita on our side. She was practically useless, though. She spent the whole night in Classic Elements. I can see spending like an hour over there, if you really make it look nice, and it was all messy before. But she was there for hours. I had to do all the fitting room stuff myself. And there wasn't a cashier to check the fitting rooms all night, either. So, we ended up being there till 10:40, on a Monday night. It's a good thing there's no cameras inside fitting rooms, because I'd hate for the guys in AP to have seen the face I made when I went into one of them after closing, and saw everything in there. Heh. I was all (silently mouthing) "MotherFUCKER!"

Sighness. But, it's over now. Came home, ate a whole Totinos Party Pizza, cooked to perfection. Hee. I'm so the culinary master, you know. Oh, and I got my RAGE! on, with dosidella. ( Nothing like a good rant on the War on Drugs, yo. )

Super-long rant ahead, guys. Consider this fair warning. . .

So, except for today at work, my weekend was pretty good. Got to be surrounded by a dozen or so pre-teen/teenage boys and girls, running around, screaming their heads off (birthday party). God, I felt old. I'm like twenty, and yet I felt like I was about three thousand years old, compared to all of them. Too bad only like three of them probably even knew I was older than them. Heh. I heard this one 13 yr. old girl asking about me to this other girl, and one was saying "she's twenty" to the other. Insert shocked staring here. This girl was fascinated by me, yo. It's always nice when your twelve year old brother's friends are taller than you. I should've started singing about the Lollypop Guild or some shit. Kids probably would've liked it.

Okay, now that that's outta the way, onto the rantage. Work today sucked. Hard. It was busy as fuck, and it was just like one of those hectic, frustrating days in general. It wouldn't have been that bad, though, except for what happenned after closing. Those of you who read my Sears rants at Meta probably remember me talking about Matt (a.k.a. Asshole), the guy who wouldn't ever leave Home Fashions? And who had an attitude in general, and how other people had complained about him to managers and shit? Well, he'd been working upstairs tonight, while I was downstairs, with some other people. At the end of the night, he and the others from up there came down to help us. At closing, one floor pretty much always finishes before the other, and then helps everyone else. But, each night that he's been the one to come down? He's spent the whole time making stupid comments, and passive aggressive jokes, like "what was everyone doing down here all night? There were five or six working here." Like, hardy har, asshole. It was busy. I've had to come upstairs and help your ass many o' times, and I never stood around, bitching, did I? No, I didn't. Shut the fuck up.

But, because I like to get along with my coworkers, I try to be friendly to him, even though I don't like him much. He was by me, saying something to Rosa about the job not being worth ten dollars an hour. And I was like (being joke-y, making conversation) "ten dollars an hour, huh? Where? I want ten dollars an hour" and he said to me "Work upstairs, then" to which I was just like "Huh? I do work upstairs, sometimes." Like, duh, asshole. And he goes, I swear to God, "Sure, if that's what you want to call it. . ." as he walks off, like all snide and under his breath.

So, there I was, standing there, getting more and more pissed by the second. When he came back around, I asked him "What was that you said about me working upstairs?" and he says "Nothing." Not nothing as in really nothing, mind you. But nothing like how you'd say "nothing" to someone when you really had said something, but you're playing mind games, and being all "hmph, nothing I'll repeat." Being a bitch, in other words. And I asked "Was that supposed to be some kind of a joke?", like, trying to understand, and see if maybe I'd missed something. And he doesn't even respond, or meet my eyes. Motherfucker just walks off. Now, I'm not good with conflict. Especially conflict with someone I barely know, who has no reason to dislike me, or say shit like that to me. I've only worked with him like once, for a full shift, and we've never really worked much side by side or anything. He doesn't fucking know me. I've never done anything to him, or given him reason to hold shit against me. Except for the time when I asked him what he was doing, when he'd been in home fashions all night. Sue me. Give me a fucking break. If that's what he's in a tizzy over, baby needs to fucking grow up and shut up. And bring it up to me to my goddamned face, or to a manager if he's too pussy for that. Don't make little bitch-ass comments, and then refuse to back them up, when I confront you. Fucking pussy, cunting bitch. There aren't enough swear words in the world to properly express how I'm feeling right now. He totally struck a nerve. Now, I'm feelin' all about kickin' some ass, but at the time, I was also just upset in general. It was the end of a long day, and I was worn out. And when I'm worn out, and pissed, I cry. Especially if someone asks me "Are you okay?" It's like guaranteed waterworks, right there. Which is exactly what happenned. A manager asked me that, and I couldn't even explain what had happenned. I just teared the fuck up, right there. And because I was not going to cry in front of people, I turned and left. It was only minutes before everyone else left too, though, thankfully. But I know one or two must've noticed I'd been crying, and had left early. Then I had to ride the bus home, still fighting off tears, knowing people could look at me and tell I'd cried. And remember that I'm the person who can't write a check, because I'm afraid my hand will tremble in front of the person. I'm not exactly a big fan of standing out in public. So, that was great fun.

Man, he pissed me off, yo. This asshole has been there, what? A month? He thinks he's like the shit or something, because his brother is a manager. I don't know. There's something about him, that tells me he thinks he's better than others. I'd felt like he was looking down on me, before this. All I know is that I didn't like him before, but this? Oh, Hell no. I work hard, damn't. For that shit job. And I try my best, to get the job done, and to get along with people, even when they get on my last motherfucking nerve. Him, on the other hand? Stands around, bitching. That's what he does. He talks to the people in mattresses, does half-assed work, and acts like he's King Turd of Shit Mountain. And he wants to say shit to me, about working? When I'd worked there a year before, and everyone knows I'm a good worker? Fuck you, motherfucker. If he thinks I'm gonna take that kind of disrespecting bullshit? And not say anything more to him? Oh, he picked the wrong, motherfucking bitch. Unlike Asshole, I'm not gonna make passive aggressive, pussy comments almost out of earshot and then deny them. I'll say them to your fucking, ugly face you cunt.

Well, that was cheery, wasn't it? Hee. Earlier, I was feeling insecure, like "There's no reason for him to dislike me like that, that I know of. Does that mean others could dislike me as well, without me knowing that I've caused it to happen?" But, you know what? Even if I have done something to piss him off? What kind of a bitch says something like that, the way he did? Even if I did do something wrong, he's still an asshole. Any way you look at it. Say it to my face, or shut the fuck up. Bitch about me later, when you go home, I don't give a shit. But don't fuck around, and play games with me. Jesus. dosidella and I were talking about this earlier (who's a lovely part of my dandy, little online support system, btw. I flove you, honey!), and I decided what this society could use, is a little lesson in Yanomamo conflict resolution. If this had all happenned there? Well, what the Hell, ( just read it! )