I've had this coming.
I was supposed to go to a job interview today, but I called and canceled. It seems futile. They're not going to hire me. It would just be a pointless trip to OKC and back and a waste of gas.
Got another one tomorrow, here in town. I guess I'm still going to that one. Although I don't know why I bother. (Starting to sound like Marvin... Wretched, isn't it?)
Oh, this is funny: We all thought our lease was up May 31. We, being me, Jennifer, and Heather. I talked to my landlord yesterday, though, and it turns out, we were way off. It's July 31. Jen is out of town for a funeral, so she doesn't know yet. Heather and I are both relieved, because neither of us was even close to being ready to move.
Yay, putting off the dreaded move another 2 months! This means I don't have to ship Siesta & cats off to my mom's house.
Despite bailing on the interview, I still didn't go in to work until 2:30. Work was just fine, except Denise, who relieved me yesterday, left EVERY SINGLE BOX unpacked. I don't know why. She had 3 damn hours to unload those things and price them, and Monday nights are really slow, so it's not like she got too busy.
She did this on Saturday, too. I told her there were 3 boxes in the back that needed to be unloaded--just three fucking boxes--and she didn't touch them. They were still there on Monday when I got in.
I complained about this, sort of, to Sharon. Sharon told me that Denise probably left them there to prove some sort of point--she doesn't think I do anything while I'm at work. Oh my FUCKING god, that pissed me off. Yesterday I was at work from 9:15 until 6:15 and I sat down once, the whole day, to eat my lunch. The rest of the time I was putting away the $2,000 liquor order and the $500 beer order. I worked non-stop unloading that shit, except for waiting on customers, of course. And there were about 10 boxes that needed to be unpacked before that day's delivery even got there. She was there for 3 damn hours, and didn't do a goddamn thing except change a light bulb.
Grrrrr.
Sharon says Denise is probably jealous of me. Jealous? Of me? What the fuck. Jealous, because I get more hours (22 a week, WOO HOO), and now I'm doing the bank deposits and a little ordering, and I'm "in charge" when Sharon is out of town. Denise has worked there for a few years, I think, so she has some seniority issues. I've only been there since November. But she lives 30 minutes away, has another full time job, and can only work Tuesday evenings and every other Saturday. Get over it, you stupid bitch.
Today when she came in--15 minutes late of course--she fucking asked me to stay and work for her. "Do you want a few extra hours?"
HELL no.
It came up in the conversation that I was off this morning. I told her it was because I had a job interview. I didn't mention that I didn't actually go to the interview. She said, "Oh, you're probably exhausted, then." Sure, yeah, I'm exhausted. Very tired.
This woman has the worst perpetual tardiness problem I have ever seen. She has been on time to relieve me ONCE. One time. Exactly once. There's no hyperbole here. She is normally 10-15 minutes late. She's doing pretty good if it's only 5 minutes late. Once she was an hour late. She has actually driven right past the store and gone somewhere else (Lowe's, which is on the other side of town, or the dollar store), while already running late, because she didn't see a car there (I didn't drive and nobody had come to pick me up yet).
But I deserve this. I really do. This is karma coming around to bitch-slap me.
I think back to all the times I was late to work at Jack's. I was one of those people who figured if I got there within 5 minutes of the time I was scheduled to start work, that was close enough. So, I was a little bit late, a lot. Sometimes I was really late. There are many reasons for this. First, I hated my job. I mean, I thought I liked it, but subconsciously, I really fucking hated it, which I only found out when I got fired and was so relieved at not having to work there anymore. It's easier to be punctual if you enjoy your job. Second, I worked the night shift, and had horrible insomnia even before I started working that shift--I was lucky if I got more than 3 hours of sleep a day. There were lots of times when I got no sleep, or maybe a half hour nap. And usually the sleep only happened after dark. It was really, really hard to drag myself out of bed at 10:30 at night to go to work until 8:00 am. Third, I lose track of time, horribly, often, and look up and see that 30 minutes have passed when I think only 10 minutes have gone by. The fourth reason is that I really didn't think anyone would care if I came in 5 minutes late. People who came in to relieve me in the morning were late all the time, too, and it never really bothered me. So I didn't think it was a HUGE deal. I knew it was annoying, but I didn't think anyone would really take it that seriously. And it's not like I planned to be late, consciously. Ok, sometimes I did. Sometimes I just did not give a fuck. But mostly, I tried to be on time because I didn't like inconveniencing people and I didn't want them to be mad at me. I tried pretty hard, but I failed a lot.
Well, this job has completely and utterly changed my opinion on THAT. I'm reformed now. Denise is a great bad example. The constant lateness by itself wouldn't be nearly so irritating, if it weren't for all the other crap. The tardiness is just one more reason she gets on my nerves.
A bigger issue, for instance, is the fact that when the two of us work on Tuesday or Saturday, the drawer comes up short. Like 20-40 bucks short. All the time. Funny how it never happens when Denise hasn't been in. Isn't that funny? I think it's funny. I'm not saying anything, just think it's funny.
Urgh. I'm going to have another glass of wine now. If you care, I'm drinking Columbia Crest Two Vines Riesling, vintage 2004. It's pretty fucking terrific. That customer of mine who says the 2004 vintage sucks, is just wrong.
Got another one tomorrow, here in town. I guess I'm still going to that one. Although I don't know why I bother. (Starting to sound like Marvin... Wretched, isn't it?)
Oh, this is funny: We all thought our lease was up May 31. We, being me, Jennifer, and Heather. I talked to my landlord yesterday, though, and it turns out, we were way off. It's July 31. Jen is out of town for a funeral, so she doesn't know yet. Heather and I are both relieved, because neither of us was even close to being ready to move.
Yay, putting off the dreaded move another 2 months! This means I don't have to ship Siesta & cats off to my mom's house.
Despite bailing on the interview, I still didn't go in to work until 2:30. Work was just fine, except Denise, who relieved me yesterday, left EVERY SINGLE BOX unpacked. I don't know why. She had 3 damn hours to unload those things and price them, and Monday nights are really slow, so it's not like she got too busy.
She did this on Saturday, too. I told her there were 3 boxes in the back that needed to be unloaded--just three fucking boxes--and she didn't touch them. They were still there on Monday when I got in.
I complained about this, sort of, to Sharon. Sharon told me that Denise probably left them there to prove some sort of point--she doesn't think I do anything while I'm at work. Oh my FUCKING god, that pissed me off. Yesterday I was at work from 9:15 until 6:15 and I sat down once, the whole day, to eat my lunch. The rest of the time I was putting away the $2,000 liquor order and the $500 beer order. I worked non-stop unloading that shit, except for waiting on customers, of course. And there were about 10 boxes that needed to be unpacked before that day's delivery even got there. She was there for 3 damn hours, and didn't do a goddamn thing except change a light bulb.
Grrrrr.
Sharon says Denise is probably jealous of me. Jealous? Of me? What the fuck. Jealous, because I get more hours (22 a week, WOO HOO), and now I'm doing the bank deposits and a little ordering, and I'm "in charge" when Sharon is out of town. Denise has worked there for a few years, I think, so she has some seniority issues. I've only been there since November. But she lives 30 minutes away, has another full time job, and can only work Tuesday evenings and every other Saturday. Get over it, you stupid bitch.
Today when she came in--15 minutes late of course--she fucking asked me to stay and work for her. "Do you want a few extra hours?"
HELL no.
It came up in the conversation that I was off this morning. I told her it was because I had a job interview. I didn't mention that I didn't actually go to the interview. She said, "Oh, you're probably exhausted, then." Sure, yeah, I'm exhausted. Very tired.
This woman has the worst perpetual tardiness problem I have ever seen. She has been on time to relieve me ONCE. One time. Exactly once. There's no hyperbole here. She is normally 10-15 minutes late. She's doing pretty good if it's only 5 minutes late. Once she was an hour late. She has actually driven right past the store and gone somewhere else (Lowe's, which is on the other side of town, or the dollar store), while already running late, because she didn't see a car there (I didn't drive and nobody had come to pick me up yet).
But I deserve this. I really do. This is karma coming around to bitch-slap me.
I think back to all the times I was late to work at Jack's. I was one of those people who figured if I got there within 5 minutes of the time I was scheduled to start work, that was close enough. So, I was a little bit late, a lot. Sometimes I was really late. There are many reasons for this. First, I hated my job. I mean, I thought I liked it, but subconsciously, I really fucking hated it, which I only found out when I got fired and was so relieved at not having to work there anymore. It's easier to be punctual if you enjoy your job. Second, I worked the night shift, and had horrible insomnia even before I started working that shift--I was lucky if I got more than 3 hours of sleep a day. There were lots of times when I got no sleep, or maybe a half hour nap. And usually the sleep only happened after dark. It was really, really hard to drag myself out of bed at 10:30 at night to go to work until 8:00 am. Third, I lose track of time, horribly, often, and look up and see that 30 minutes have passed when I think only 10 minutes have gone by. The fourth reason is that I really didn't think anyone would care if I came in 5 minutes late. People who came in to relieve me in the morning were late all the time, too, and it never really bothered me. So I didn't think it was a HUGE deal. I knew it was annoying, but I didn't think anyone would really take it that seriously. And it's not like I planned to be late, consciously. Ok, sometimes I did. Sometimes I just did not give a fuck. But mostly, I tried to be on time because I didn't like inconveniencing people and I didn't want them to be mad at me. I tried pretty hard, but I failed a lot.
Well, this job has completely and utterly changed my opinion on THAT. I'm reformed now. Denise is a great bad example. The constant lateness by itself wouldn't be nearly so irritating, if it weren't for all the other crap. The tardiness is just one more reason she gets on my nerves.
A bigger issue, for instance, is the fact that when the two of us work on Tuesday or Saturday, the drawer comes up short. Like 20-40 bucks short. All the time. Funny how it never happens when Denise hasn't been in. Isn't that funny? I think it's funny. I'm not saying anything, just think it's funny.
Urgh. I'm going to have another glass of wine now. If you care, I'm drinking Columbia Crest Two Vines Riesling, vintage 2004. It's pretty fucking terrific. That customer of mine who says the 2004 vintage sucks, is just wrong.