Blllllllaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrggggggghhhhhh.....
I didn't go to work today. I'm not really planning on going tomorrow, either.
This job is sucking the life out of me. I'm working my sorry ass off -- I'm working harder at this job than I've ever worked at another job, ever. I bust my ass for twelve hours (unless I'm only scheduled for a single shift, but that rarely happens; usually every shift of mine is a double, one right after the other), make shit money, and never get acknowledged unless I screw something up.
Fuck that. Fuck it all. They can fire me for not showing up; I don't care.
It scares me a little that I don't care. I do, after all, have bills to pay. I need money somehow. Honestly, though, I'm not making any more money than I was at the sub shop, and at least I could sit on my ass and get stoned all day at that job.
Gahhh.....what am I going to do? I'll have to start looking for a new job, because I'll be damned if I'm going back to that one.
Other than that situation, things are going great. I'm crazy about Mark -- we see each other every day, and we always have a blast. Yesterday, we took his dog and my dog up to a lake in the mountains, and while the dogs splashed around and chased each other through the water, he and I sat on a rock in the sun, drinking beer and smoking joints. It was awesome -- one of the best days off I've had in a while. I have so much fun with him, whether we're at the drive-in theater, or at the zoo, or in my living room watching a movie. It's nice.
Edit: So I'm still freaking out about work. I feel guilty as hell for not going -- but not guilty enough to go. I'm worried about money. I'm worried about lots of things. I think perhaps I'm flipping out a little bit. The remedy? Lots of weed and a nap. Seeya.
This job is sucking the life out of me. I'm working my sorry ass off -- I'm working harder at this job than I've ever worked at another job, ever. I bust my ass for twelve hours (unless I'm only scheduled for a single shift, but that rarely happens; usually every shift of mine is a double, one right after the other), make shit money, and never get acknowledged unless I screw something up.
Fuck that. Fuck it all. They can fire me for not showing up; I don't care.
It scares me a little that I don't care. I do, after all, have bills to pay. I need money somehow. Honestly, though, I'm not making any more money than I was at the sub shop, and at least I could sit on my ass and get stoned all day at that job.
Gahhh.....what am I going to do? I'll have to start looking for a new job, because I'll be damned if I'm going back to that one.
Other than that situation, things are going great. I'm crazy about Mark -- we see each other every day, and we always have a blast. Yesterday, we took his dog and my dog up to a lake in the mountains, and while the dogs splashed around and chased each other through the water, he and I sat on a rock in the sun, drinking beer and smoking joints. It was awesome -- one of the best days off I've had in a while. I have so much fun with him, whether we're at the drive-in theater, or at the zoo, or in my living room watching a movie. It's nice.
Edit: So I'm still freaking out about work. I feel guilty as hell for not going -- but not guilty enough to go. I'm worried about money. I'm worried about lots of things. I think perhaps I'm flipping out a little bit. The remedy? Lots of weed and a nap. Seeya.