What the hell

Why is it that when I get my spine all hard and full of concrete to do something, someone comes along with a jackhammer and turns my concrete spine to rubble?

So last Wednesday, I did two change orders.  We never have enough change on Monday to make it through until Wednesday so occasionally I try to head off the riot act about not thinking ahead by doing two change orders, one to be delivered on Saturday and one to be delivered on Sunday.  That way we have enough to get us through until the next time Garda comes which is on Wednesday.  So, on Wednesday, I did two change orders.  One to be delivered on Saturday and one to be delivered today.

Leave it to Garda to fuck it all up.

So I get in this morning and I immediately notice that they have two receipts meaning that they took both money bags and I'm thinking "Crap, I'm going to get blamed for this." I hadn't even realized the full fuckity of it all yet but I knew I was going to get blamed.

So I realized the full fuckity (Yes I know I'm making up words) of the situation and I decided "Fuck it, when (not if) I get blamed for this, even though it is soooooo not my fault, I'm just going to quit.  I would rather have quit than hear about how this is my fault. (Seriously, you think I'm kidding, this would have all been my fault.  Children starving on that undiscovered island just east of West bubblefuck is my fault...)

I had it all played out in my mind.  I was going to stay awake tomorrow morning and have this conversation because I knew I was going to get the call and then I thought why do this over the phone I should just come in.  Won't be a big deal.

And then the Garda guy came in and he fixed the situation.  I am not actually allowed to say how he fixed it cause that would just be TMI and snooping eyes could threaten to fire me for insubordination again.

Sorry, in a really cynical mood at current.  I'm a little disillusioned and I can't remember why I love my job so much.  I have grey hair behind it, I have had a case of Shingles which is a stress induced condition available only to people that have had chicken pox before, I have nervous ticks, and sleepless nights.  I have actually ome to dread going in some days.  A job is not supposed to be like that.

I really can't blame the job for it.  I'm tired of working in retail.  In fourteen years, I have only seen customers get ruder and ruder while I'm forced to be nicer and nicer.

I have been cussed out, hit by kids, had my nose assaulted by the diapers of kids that have those obnoxious parents who would rather shop than change their child, and been nearly deafened by kids who think that if they scream at the top of their lungs their mothers will be forced to take them out of the store when instead said mom just says "sssh!"

I think I have reached my limit bloggers.  I don't know what I want to do with my life but I'm pretty sure it's not retail..

Hmm... IDK.  Anyways, back to painting my keyboard and watching Desperate housewives.  Once again, I'm lost in the new episodes but what can you do but invade Hulu.

Single and blogging is bored... and that's never good.

Bit of a rant...

See this is why I love having a blog... I can have a ranting moment and no one really has to care... or comment

You know what really grinds my gears, chafes my buttocks, and  makes me wanna scream?  When people who I think are my friends feel that they can badmouth people who are my friends to me.  Seriously.  You have half a brain, you know that she's one of the closest friends I have, why the hell would you think it's okay to say half the shit you just said to me???  Gah!!!  This is why I have Facebook statuses where I just haul off and scream...  People like her.

And you know what bothers me more?  The fact that I can't protect my best from people like her or that people like her are apart of her family.

Need I repeat?  GAH!!!!!

I promise I'm not dead.

I would say that those of you that read this also see me on Facebook so you know I'm not dead but honestly... are we for certain that death would stop me from facebooking?

So this is going to be short, I have to get ready fro work.  I'm loosing me interest in work.  Now that they have the other woman to replace the great fuck up, I am the tortoise to a hare and she is liked more by the boss and she is getting the lions share of the hours.  I, on the other hand am constantly being sent home early because they need to save hours.  And then the markdowns build up and I get the riot act.  Lemme tell you, I can practice Osmosis all I freaking want to, but I will never get good enough to finishing the mountain o' markdowns from in front of my TV.  I don't care how frustrated boss lady gets that they aren't done, keep sending me home and don't expect me to get anything done.

So I am off to work again today.  This was my weekend to work.  I normally would conetrate on the work aspect but bloggers, I had a Mommy Playdate.

Yes you read it!  I had a playdate.  My kids went, and they played with other children and they didn't kill them!!  I have the rough bunch and I'm always at two ends of concern.  Are they going to like the other kids and are they going to be too rough for the other kids.  I didn't have to worry about that.  They had fun.  And I had fun, we all had fun!!  Playdates are the bees knees.

Do bees have knees?  Where did that expression come from?

Oh well, off to get dressed then go get my coffee and trudge to the salt mines where I will undoubtedly be sent home early just for shits and giggles.  So there you go... the "I'm not dead" blog.

Single and blogging should have waited till after work to do this cause now she has to skedaddle!