…and I’m nearly out.
Two more hellish early mornings to deal with. They wouldn’t be so bad if they weren’t coupled with the late finish.
New job is now a certainty. I will have left this one by mid-August even if it means a spell of eBaying between jobs. Idiot Area Manager seems determined to push both me and Mopman into saying ‘screw this’ so we are both preparing to jump ship. Today we had A Note, stating that she wanted to know who was covering Saturday morning since her idle swine of a temp can’t (be bothered to) do it.Not ‘can one of you cover?’ but ‘who is doing it?’ As if we are obliged to drop our real lives for pennies at her whim. I will refrain from a detailed description at this point but if you imagine a partially deflated beach ball with a badly drawn face on it, you’re pretty much there.
I am working the early Gadget Shop and then the afternoon Local Shop – she has no problem with me working the morning at Local Shop on the same day. Three shifts, one day, no way. As for Mopman, it’s his one day off this week so he’s said ‘no’ too.
Any more crap and I will, in leaving, bring her comfortable little empire crashing around her ears. I am somewhat miffed.
There are posts on the antismokers and on infantilisation of the population in the works but without whisky, and with the requirement of early slumber, they’ll have to wait. Normal service will resume Sunday unless I die of sobriety in the meantime.
This week I am seeing the woprld as it really is. Next week I return to the whisky, because the world as it really is, well, it’s pretty weird.
And mostly disgusting.