i had the day from blazing hell at my one job, and then proceeded to have the day from blazing hell at my other job. i'm still too discouraged and angry and defeated to want to relive this twelve-hour period in blog form...suffice it to say that my boys were all restless and smacky because of the rain, and this exponentially increased their usual restlessness and smackyness. everyone was in tears at some point in the day, and so i figured, who am i to kill a trend? tempted to sit right down in the middle of the room and throw a hairy tantrum with the rest, i rather had a a good old cry in front of my boss. more embarrassing than not, but she was uber-sweet about it, and expressed her displeasure that my co-teacher had made an unbreakable appointment for herself on this day, leaving me alone (did i mention that i was alone with the restless smackers?) in my first week. so i kind of hate that job a little bit.
also, i hate working at red robin metrotown. i know i keep saying that i love it, but the truth is that i loved working in abby, and i'd work every friday and saturday night, and even the dreaded sunday afternoon, if i could only bring my abby staff (even troy, that rat bastard) to this location. it's exceptionally difficult to go from a location where i am queen and have all kinds of weight to throw around to a location where i can't even get my small-man-syndrome assistant manager (paul, i hope you're reading this, because all of those reconcilatory remarks i made were only because having your boss, even a small-man-syndrome assistant manager, hate you, is a bad call. so you can go ahead and keep thinking that we're buddies now and stuff, but i freaking hate you, and i think you're lying when you say your getting married, because i can't fathom that any woman could stomach you, and i hope you're lying when you say you have kids, because i wont live in a world that contains your spawn) to do something he should legitemately do on his own. it's one thing to get your boss to promo stuff because the folks at the table are friends of yours. it's another thing entirely to ask him to take a drink off the bill because the drinks took 25 minutes to get to the table (i will insert here that it was a teeny tiny bit the bar's fault, a whopping bit paul's fault, and in no way my or the table's fault, and i say that in complete humble sincerity). and i may have accidentally gotten into a shouting match with him over the whole ordeal, which was a mistake on my part, because he promptly went around talking trash about me (small man syndrome) to other servers. and this happened early in the evening, so for the rest of the night i was full of righteous indignation, and no small amounts of ire and wrath.
'Everything just feels right tonight. I'm content. At peace. And very tired.' blogs jane. i am the opposite of those things. all is wrong. i genuinely and wholeheartedly (however much those feelings may or may not be influenced by my raging pms) don't want to go back to reds, ever. and i certainly don't want to go back to daycare on monday. i feel nagging hope for daycare, because children can be molded and trained, like monkeys. right now i don't ever want to see the inside of red robin again. paul cannot be coaxed out of trying to rule the world because i outweigh him, and he thinks he has something to prove. nothing is right, and i am still churning with gall (and, i'm not going to lie, still crying). i am not at peace, and i am not tired, and i will stay awake for another angry hour or so, and then dream angry dreams from which i wake un-refreshed.
and also, i made whopping tips and walked away with piddling money, which is a usual red robin occurrance and means that someone made more than they should and isn't telling. whoever you are, anonymous theif, i add you to my wheel of hate.