well, not INTO, in a Trainspotting sorta way, but yanno...
thankfully, the majority of the customers have been actually okay, though the REAL stinkers are the jerks calling from the comfort of their homes and getting pissy because they've been on hold a whopping THREE MINUTES. unkay. i'm standing here, the only person out of *waves arms in an emphatic movement that involves her entire upper torso* all the people up here that actually answers the phone, i'm doing a delivery order, answering three questions WHILE on the floor and rolling a chair mat for another customer WHILE I'M WEARING A SKIRT. yes, sir, every single employee we OWN is currently on a register, so there is no one to help you. please listen to more of The Carpenters Christmas while holding. kay, thanks.
which brings me to another point: although i'm bloated as a dead fish this week to *urp* my BLEEDING, OOZING UTERUS, it's not really a good idea to wear my long, tight skirt to work during the holiday rush. i shimmied up more ladders and pulled more furniture today than i think i have the rest of the week combined.
i also got pulled into the office by Tony and told that i have a rotten attitude and that i need to watch what i say in front of the customers (mainly referring to yesterday when he walked in, i was holding my thighs very tightly together to prevent leakage and i said that i needed to go potty, and that i have needed to go potty for HOURS, can i please freaking go? the customers raised their eyebrows and looked at him, our fearless leader, at such a SHOCKING statement coming from their hired help.)
and my use of the word 'freaking' was attacked, too. i'm sorry, i'm stressed. i know that other people are stressed. unfortunately, if i can't VENT, i'll freaking explode. family stuff isn't helping at ALL, and i do my freaking darnedest to keep home 'issues' separated from work 'issues'...
the month of december is going to freaking be the death of me, i swear. i don't even have an OUNCE of Christmasism in me whatsoever left. the biggest joy i have been able to find is laughing my ass off with faetal as Bacci does silly stuff for us on the stairs.
other than that, i want to do nothing but come home and drink myself into a stupor, although it's barely 5 pm.
but i won't.
life moves on.
there's almost nothing left
you eat my kind for breakfast
what did i expect, to come here and find anyone?