Cake or Death March 23, 2004 - 11:58 p.m.

I'm working this weekend.

Thursday through Saturday.

I have to be there at 6am each morning.

I'm not used to even going to sleep until around 8am.

They will be twelve hour days. At least. Each day.

Also, it's likely I'll have to sit around after work and wait for my mom. For six hours. Chris offered to pick me up if that's the case, but I don't want to make him drive all the way out there.

The event? A truck show.

And Monday evening? Wrestling.

Woo fucking hoo!!!!!!!

See this enthusiasm?!!?! Yeah?!!!?! Isn't it great?!!!!??!

It's all fake!!!

Yeah. That's right. I'm a big faker. I fake all this enthusiasm over a shitty job that makes me angry with its slightest mention.

I get very angry. I fume. I even mope. I stay in a rotten mood until something happens that makes me forget it ever existed. And then I remember and I get pissed off again. This is why I usually prefer to not know anything about work, until the last minute.

I said I faked my enthusiasm, and I did. But that's the only display of enthusiasm I've shown for this job. While working, I don't hide my disgust. I'm not obnoxious or loud and I actually manage to be somehow friendly towards the idiots I encounter. But otherwise, the boss could be standing right there and I'll make comments like 'This sucks' and 'This is stupid'. And I'll judge and criticize and be annoyed.

But I don't ramble on and on about it. I make one comment, and feel that's enough. At least towards the boss or any other workers. I keep most of what I have to say, all to myself. But if it's just me and my mom, I won't hold back. We could be on the highway and she'll look at the clock and worry that we're going to be late. And I'll be laying back with my feet propped up on the dashboard, I don't even have my uniform on, eyes closed, and say 'Screw 'em. I really don't care'. I'm completely honest with her when I say that I'd be just fine with the idea of turning around and going back home. Sure, I'd feel bad and feel like I left them short on people... but that doesn't seem to compare with the annoyance I feel while I'm working.

Despite the hate, I get the job done. I do what's asked of me. Sometimes less - because they're stupid and don't know what they're telling us half the time - but never more. I'm not going to run myself stupid for shitty pay and even more stress than I can deal with. This job isn't worth exerting that much effort.

I've heard of plenty of people hating their job, but this is ridiculous.

And in lighter news, we watched School of Rock tonight, which was cute. Lots of laughs. I'd like to watch the commentaries on it before Chris takes it back to the bookstore. But with me working this weekend, I don't see that as being likely. Then again, he's not the quickest to return their movies.

We'll see.

Now, I'm obsessing over a tank top that says 'I <3 Dorks' that I saw on sale. And it even has matching roos you can buy, also on sale. As soon as I saw it, I was picking out which pants, hoody, and accessories would go with it.

I'm such a freak.

I'd buy both of them, but I can't even spare that small amount of money right now. Too many things are past due or almost due, and that doesn't even count the costs of going to see a doctor and dentist. Both of which I've considered doing regardless of my financial nonexistance.

So I try to look at it this way... I go and see the doctor and fix anything that might be wrong, but deal with the bills and lousy credit. Or I go without and remain in pain and, hell.. maybe even die, but stay debt free. Either would be stressful.

Debt or pain, debt or pain...

Um. I'll have the chicken, please.

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