Wednesday, November 19, 2003

"It's my life, don't you forget ..."

Well. I worked today with a sore arm and numb fingers. They called us all together at lunchtime to make a "We're In The Home Stretch" speech. We were told that, starting tomorrow, we would be working 12-hour shifts ... including Saturday, possibly Sunday. Anyone who has a problem with the schedule should "hit the door". Cashier training will be Monday and Tuesday of next week, for 8 hours a day. Then we're expected to put in 4 hours at the new store. Grand Opening is set for the day before Thanksgiving.

I have to say that "discouraged" is putting it mildly. I know how I feel after 10 hours on my feet, and it makes me cry like a baby to imagine 12 hours. All afternoon, my head was full of all kinds of thoughts and ideas. And I honestly don't know what the hell. :-(

I'm so damn tired of dealing with the inability to make money AND keep a semi-happy mindset at the same time. There must be something wrong with me.

Of course, most of the people I work with are thrilled at the idea of 12-hour-days ... they work to pay their rent and buy cigarettes. At $6.50 an hour, it just feels like insanity to me. Why am I knocking myself out for a chance to work for this crappy company?

Maybe the company I worked with before B1g L0ts will find me another old person to take care of. They still consider me an employee ... I told them I was unavailable to work through the holidays. Don't know why I did that ... I guess just in case this job sucked really bad. Anyway, all it would take is a phone call and they'd put me back active. I can't even tell you how much I hate all of this.

Ahhh ... cry me a river, right?


Q: Why do USC alumni keep their diplomas on their dash boards?
A: So they can park in the handicapped spaces.

Q: How do you keep a a Gamecock busy?
A: Write 'Please turn over' on both sides of a piece of paper.

A drunk stood on a table at a noisy bar.
"Listen up, y'all," he shouted. "I want to tell a Carolina joke." Immediately, a man -- a big man, a 6-foot-5, 270-pound man -- got to his feet.
"Buddy, let me warn you", he told the drunk. "I played football at Carolina."
"No problem", said the drunk. "I plan to tell it real slow."


Outside My House Today:
High: 69
Low: 57
Rainy and windy


Thought For Today:
"You might be a Gamecock if:
Your elective foreign language in college was English."

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