(no subject)
I swear by all that is holy and good in the Universe, if I complain about work and Kent responds with "Well, it's better than not having a job," I WILL stab him with my (borrowed) chefs knife.
I don't want to go in today. I got screamed at on Thursday because we ran out of chickens (not true. We had six in the hot case, and 18 in the oven. AND THAT'S NOT MY JOB! Apparently, every-fucking-body in that store thinks that Kent and I are the same person with the same skill set). Then Tiny Little Tyrant took Kent aside yesterday to bitch at him about my lackluster amount of production.
Point the first: you made an issue when I was hired that YOU are my boss, not my husband. If you have an issue, you need to be taking it up with me.
Point the second: I get a slow start on the day because I ACTUALLY FILL OUT THE PRODUCTION TOOL. You know, that thing that is supposed to keep us on track about waste and shit like that? That corporate requires every quarter? That you just make up numbers for? Yeah, that thing.
Point the third: I could produce one hell of a lot more if I tasked deli to slice my meat and cheese for me, got someone to fetch containers for me, had a personal butt monkey to run all over the store getting produce and sauces, and never once filled out a transfer log.
Point the fourth: Things go hella faster when you schedule your own private minion to work with you. I could make 72 salads and 60 sandwiches in 2 hours if I had an extra set of hands.
Blergh. She had better not EVEN speak to me today. Any interaction might cost me my job.
I'm wondering if this shit is worth a call to HR. The screaming incident definitely is.
Breathe, Al. You've got 8 hours of fuckwittery to put up with.
In better news, I had an amazing realization. The spousebeast routinely drops 20 and change to buy things for Hearthstone. If THAT comes out of the household money, what do *I* get?
My copy of A Star Is Born should arrive tomorrow or Monday. :) Next upis Boheniam Rhrapsody.
I don't want to go in today. I got screamed at on Thursday because we ran out of chickens (not true. We had six in the hot case, and 18 in the oven. AND THAT'S NOT MY JOB! Apparently, every-fucking-body in that store thinks that Kent and I are the same person with the same skill set). Then Tiny Little Tyrant took Kent aside yesterday to bitch at him about my lackluster amount of production.
Point the first: you made an issue when I was hired that YOU are my boss, not my husband. If you have an issue, you need to be taking it up with me.
Point the second: I get a slow start on the day because I ACTUALLY FILL OUT THE PRODUCTION TOOL. You know, that thing that is supposed to keep us on track about waste and shit like that? That corporate requires every quarter? That you just make up numbers for? Yeah, that thing.
Point the third: I could produce one hell of a lot more if I tasked deli to slice my meat and cheese for me, got someone to fetch containers for me, had a personal butt monkey to run all over the store getting produce and sauces, and never once filled out a transfer log.
Point the fourth: Things go hella faster when you schedule your own private minion to work with you. I could make 72 salads and 60 sandwiches in 2 hours if I had an extra set of hands.
Blergh. She had better not EVEN speak to me today. Any interaction might cost me my job.
I'm wondering if this shit is worth a call to HR. The screaming incident definitely is.
Breathe, Al. You've got 8 hours of fuckwittery to put up with.
In better news, I had an amazing realization. The spousebeast routinely drops 20 and change to buy things for Hearthstone. If THAT comes out of the household money, what do *I* get?
My copy of A Star Is Born should arrive tomorrow or Monday. :) Next upis Boheniam Rhrapsody.