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.