Ridiculous
Taken from my blog:
You know what I’m absolutely sick of? I’m sick of pettiness. Of this absolute shit I have to deal with here at work. Just because I’m the fucking manager’s daughter does not mean that I should be free-for-all when it comes to bitching. Yes, I was gone last week. Yes, it was a holiday week. I am aware of this. And do you honestly think I was sitting at home partying away like some lush? Apparently this is what my fellow co-workers think of me. I was on the phone with my stepmother every fucking night, stressed about the next day when she practically told me to stay home. “Don’t stress over it. If you’re not feeling well, do not come in! Relax and feel better. It’s not even that busy this year.” So, I did what I was told. I actually took care of myself. And what do I get? I come back to work today to find out that half the staff had been talking about me all week. “She’s probably out partying. I don’t think she’s sick.” “I can’t believe she got the entire holiday week off.” I’m so SICK OF THIS SHIT. I’m sick of being talked about like I’m some bratty little leech who doesn’t do a damned thing at this store. I’m sick of Rene taking her problems out on me. She wouldn’t have lost her job to me if she did what she was supposed to in the first place.
Stop taking your shit out on me. Everyone stop fucking talking about me behind my back. If you have a problem with me, either tell me, or go to the boss and give your grievences to her. Stop spreading gossip. Because I’m fucking sick of it. And just because I’m not throwing up with a fever does not mean I’m not fucking sick.
It’s no fucking wonder I have a complex. Does it look like I’m playing?! This is complete, pure, bullshit.
/end rant.