Frustration Floats in and Kicks my Arse
It's no secret that I hate the OG. I mean I HATE IT. Well if I hate it so much, why have I been there for three years? I haven't always hated it, and at this point, I suppose you can say I just blindly herded myself into a despicable routine.
My co-workers used to make it not so bad, and some of them still do; however, it's getting harder and harder to even crack a real smile while I'm there. As soon as I get out of my car to walk towards the door to start a shift, this wave of a mini-depression washes over me and I feel miserable.
What I didn't remember while my eyes swelled up with tears after receiving a $.69 tip from the dicknose known as 'toscana guy'at the end of the night was that this job is only a means to an end. This job is what me and Dave call "eating shit" before we get to be big timers.
Edgar calmly reminded me that we have a very bright future together, and that it's not as far away as it seems. He reminded me that that job does not define me. He reminded me of our fantastic plan to open up a center for people who need help, and that we are going to give whatever kind of help we are able to give.
David reminded me that I have to trust myself. I have to trust that I won't let myself become complacent in that dump. He also told me that I always have to trust God. That goes without saying, and is already being done.
But all of these things are so hard to do when you're in such a miserable establishment where really are you are is a shift coverer.
So thank you Brad, thank you Arbuckle, thank you Reiter, Arby, Leo, Ricky, Valentin, Valerina, Davina, Olmstead, Jeffrey, Greg...etc...thank you all for making the place not suck so much when I'm there. We all know the suck factor at that place is through the roof.
QOTD
"Tell him I said 'kisses on his pink parts.'"
-Oliver telling me to relay a message to Edgar.-
"How ya hangin Mendez? Long and hairy, hard to carry?"
-Gay Nick...who apparently thinks I have a weenis.-
"If you wanna find a rich lover, this is the place."
-Dessi-
"And then there was a really great 'rate my poo....'"
-Bradwell-
"Buckle up, biotch!"
-Greg-
"There's a guy dying at the bar."
-Reiter observing an old man.-
"Whatcha text messaging?! Dirty stuff????"
-Bradwell being a brat as I text messaged Edgar.-
My co-workers used to make it not so bad, and some of them still do; however, it's getting harder and harder to even crack a real smile while I'm there. As soon as I get out of my car to walk towards the door to start a shift, this wave of a mini-depression washes over me and I feel miserable.
What I didn't remember while my eyes swelled up with tears after receiving a $.69 tip from the dicknose known as 'toscana guy'at the end of the night was that this job is only a means to an end. This job is what me and Dave call "eating shit" before we get to be big timers.
Edgar calmly reminded me that we have a very bright future together, and that it's not as far away as it seems. He reminded me that that job does not define me. He reminded me of our fantastic plan to open up a center for people who need help, and that we are going to give whatever kind of help we are able to give.
David reminded me that I have to trust myself. I have to trust that I won't let myself become complacent in that dump. He also told me that I always have to trust God. That goes without saying, and is already being done.
But all of these things are so hard to do when you're in such a miserable establishment where really are you are is a shift coverer.
So thank you Brad, thank you Arbuckle, thank you Reiter, Arby, Leo, Ricky, Valentin, Valerina, Davina, Olmstead, Jeffrey, Greg...etc...thank you all for making the place not suck so much when I'm there. We all know the suck factor at that place is through the roof.
QOTD
"Tell him I said 'kisses on his pink parts.'"
-Oliver telling me to relay a message to Edgar.-
"How ya hangin Mendez? Long and hairy, hard to carry?"
-Gay Nick...who apparently thinks I have a weenis.-
"If you wanna find a rich lover, this is the place."
-Dessi-
"And then there was a really great 'rate my poo....'"
-Bradwell-
"Buckle up, biotch!"
-Greg-
"There's a guy dying at the bar."
-Reiter observing an old man.-
"Whatcha text messaging?! Dirty stuff????"
-Bradwell being a brat as I text messaged Edgar.-
posted by LoveisLife4Nen at 11:19 PM
<< Home