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?

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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."

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

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

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