So, I'm thinking about quitting my day job.
Of course, I think about this a lot, usually when I'm at my day job but yeah, I'm thinking about it. And not in a lovely daydreaming sort of way. And it's not just because I find my bosses to be grossly incompetent or the majority of my co-workers to be really frakking annoying. It isn't even because everyone and their brother is in the valley looking at leaves and trying on jeans that I then have to refold and put away. Although that is annoying, the customers have been rather mellow this week. One customer told me she'd bring me in some brown bread. Weird, certainly, but a nice gesture all the time.
But all that isn't why I'm thinking about quitting my job. It's because my day job has seriously been cutting into my television viewing time lately. And that ain't cool.
I missed the second half of the Patriots game against the Dolphins on Monday night because I had to go to bed early so I could get up early Tuesday so I could sit in the parking lot for a half hour and wait for the arrival of the AssMan who is apparently physically incapable of showing up for work on time. Interesting side note: this does not stop her from writing up associates who arrive late.
I missed my entire Monday line up of television that night and although I DVR'd most of it, my work schedule this week has been so demanding that I haven't been able to watch any of it. The same thing happened Tuesday. Now it's Wednesday night and I'm so far behind in my television watching schedule that I fear I shall never be able to catch up.
Fortunately, I have tomorrow off. TGIT, right? Thursday is my day off, as in my only day off this week. I hate this time of year. For seven months of the year, I get virtually ignored, schedule wise, and it's wonderful. Then the stupid leaves start changing color and suddenly, The Store can't live without me.
Today I was stuck in the fitting room all day long which is a problem when I have a shipment in the stockroom waiting to be processed. The AssMan gave me shit about that today, by the way. Gave me shit about the fact that I hadn't processed all the boxes that the delivery guy dropped off this morning. I'd like to say that this was new behavior for the AssMan. But I can't.
"Look," I told her, "I can't process a shipment I'm not working on and when you have me stuck in the fitting rooms all day (which, by the way smell like feet, unwashed feet), I'm not working on the shipment."
She grudgingly accepted this as truth but I did hear a rumor later that I may be written up for my bad attitude. Here's what I have to say about that:
Go ahead. Make my day. Give me a reason to walk out. I have television to watch, books to read and an ignored WIP to dust off. Life is too short and you are on my very last nerve.
You won't like me when I'm angry. Of course, you don't seem to like me now. About which, naturally, I am crushed. Get in line. And while you're at it, get over yourself, do your damn job and stop harassing me so I can do mine.