I'm dead tired.
Tonight I took an extra shift that will bring me up to the number of hours I should have (minimum) for the week. I was a little under-utilized this week for some unknown reason.
Anyway, I took my manager's extra shift to help him out and help me out at the same time. While I'm excited about the additional $70 or so that I'll get from this, I'm dead tired, and I wish I didn't have to put up with utter chaos and large quantities of garbage juice to get it. My salary is so pathetic.
Something else happened today. I was walking through the village just outside Bartell Drugs on my way to work, and I saw an elderly-ish man sitting on the ground by his car. A woman was with him, and he was pressing a tissue to his nose. He was also covered in blood, and on closer inspection, I saw the giant pool of blood on the pavement a foot away. His white shirt sleeve, his hand, and his face were all smeared with it. I dropped my bag immediately, asked how I could help, and asked a Bartell employee for ice and more towels. (The other woman had gotten there first and already contacted the Bartell manager as well as the village security guards.)
The crazy thing is that this guy kept saying he was fine, he'd be all right, asking if his nose had stopped bleeding yet. I don't think he realized fora while that he didn't have a bloody nose, per say, but that he had a giant gash in his nose as well as one above his right eye. By the time I left--when security guards got there with a medical kit--he was still refusing an ambulance to the hospital. He also kept insisting that all he needed was some help standing up and he'd be fine to drive home. Sorry, mister, but you're not fine when there's that much blood on the asphalt.
It was so red, so fresh, so scary. It really shook me up, and it made me scared for my grandparents and all the older people in my family. All this guy had done was trip over the curb. How easy is that to do? Too easy.
I hope, with all my heart, that he's okay. I'm sure he is. I just wish I knew how I could have been more help to him.
Anyway, I took my manager's extra shift to help him out and help me out at the same time. While I'm excited about the additional $70 or so that I'll get from this, I'm dead tired, and I wish I didn't have to put up with utter chaos and large quantities of garbage juice to get it. My salary is so pathetic.
Something else happened today. I was walking through the village just outside Bartell Drugs on my way to work, and I saw an elderly-ish man sitting on the ground by his car. A woman was with him, and he was pressing a tissue to his nose. He was also covered in blood, and on closer inspection, I saw the giant pool of blood on the pavement a foot away. His white shirt sleeve, his hand, and his face were all smeared with it. I dropped my bag immediately, asked how I could help, and asked a Bartell employee for ice and more towels. (The other woman had gotten there first and already contacted the Bartell manager as well as the village security guards.)
The crazy thing is that this guy kept saying he was fine, he'd be all right, asking if his nose had stopped bleeding yet. I don't think he realized fora while that he didn't have a bloody nose, per say, but that he had a giant gash in his nose as well as one above his right eye. By the time I left--when security guards got there with a medical kit--he was still refusing an ambulance to the hospital. He also kept insisting that all he needed was some help standing up and he'd be fine to drive home. Sorry, mister, but you're not fine when there's that much blood on the asphalt.
It was so red, so fresh, so scary. It really shook me up, and it made me scared for my grandparents and all the older people in my family. All this guy had done was trip over the curb. How easy is that to do? Too easy.
I hope, with all my heart, that he's okay. I'm sure he is. I just wish I knew how I could have been more help to him.