look like shit

feel like shit

physically

emotionally

goddamn it

everything was good for like a minute

now i don’t know

fuck happy people.

Every hour in that hellhole is one more reason for me to avoid human interaction at all costs.

Seriously.

I am an unholy priest in a monastery of razzle dazzle and lies. Having taken an oath of never shutting the fuck up, I am cursed to spew the glittering gospel of retail. Asking questions without giving a shit about the answer, feigning interest in people’s lives, talking and talking and talking without saying a goddamn thing; all in the hopes of taking your money. But behind the toothy grins and just-too-hearty laughs of the sales floor lies a cannibalistic ritual of backstabbing and shit-talking, where other members of the capitalistic clergy snarl-smile at each other like dogs circling a lone scrap of meat and eat the reputations of their peers alive.

So maybe I’m being a little dramatic.

Whatever. I need the outlet.

WHO IN THEIR RIGHT MIND DECIDED THAT IT WOULD BE A GOOD IDEA NOT TO CLOSE THE STORE ON NEW YEAR’S DAY WHEN WE WERE ALL PREVIOUSLY TOLD IT WOULD BE CLOSED? HUH?

A SOULLESS FUCKING SADIST, THAT’S WHO.

FUCK FUCKING FUCK FUCK.

I’M SO PISSED I’M THINKING IN ALL CAPS RIGHT NOW.

THINKING ABOUT SLAUGHTERING PEOPLE.

AND CLEANING UP THE BLOOD WITH HATS.

AND HIDING ALL THE BODY PARTS IN HAT BOXES.

.

.

.

But seriously, if I get called in, you can bet I’m not going to give a single fuck about selling a goddamn thing.

Y’all can suck my balls.

It’s that special time of year when I can finish half a can of French’s fried onions in one sitting and rationalize it by saying I just drank a ton of V8, all while high and watching the X-Files on Netflix.

Fuck you.

Fuck you for never doing any work, taking my customers, and saying totally inappropriate things on the sales floor.

But mostly,

Fuck you for being a douchebag about helping me out when I’m sick off my ass.

I’ve texted him twice before asking if he could cover shifts for me. If he had responded, told me that there was something he couldn’t get out of, I would have been like, sure. No worries man. I’ll ask someone else. But instead he simply ignores the texts, later saying that the reason why is because he slept in. Until 4. Or that he didn’t get them at all. Super.

So today, I text him asking if this is in fact his number; a ruse, if you will, to see if he is conscious before asking for the real favor. He says yes. Or, actually, “Yayuh”

Haha. Bait taken. So I ask. “I’m super sick, could you cover my shift tomorrow, I’ll owe you big time, eternally grateful, blah blah blah” Except, I am sick. And I would be eternally grateful. So I’m praying to whatever pagan god will accept me at this point. Half a fucking hour later I get a text that says, “Not around girlie  ! Sorry!”

The fuck? Not around girlie? That’s all I get? You ballsack. I know for a fact that all you’re probably doing is shrooming and wandering around a rave trying to peddle your tacky hand-bedazzled hippy sunglasses or some shit.

Luckily my other coworker is the sweetest thing since condensed milk and said she’d switch a day with me and I love her.

But Nick, you douchey bastard mc fuckface, I officially hate you.

• everything

That has to indicate something.

I’m just not quite sure what.

I didn’t realize my class met on Mondays and Wednesdays instead of Tuesdays and Thursdays, so now I have to go to my boss, ask her to rearrange my schedule again, and email my teachers telling them that I’m a fucking idiot for thinking class started the day after it actually did.

Not to mention that if I had realized this earlier I wouldn’t have had to drag my (still drunk) sorry ass all the way to CCSF and back at 9 in the morning.

I hate everything.

Texting me saying, “hey im in northbeach, call me when you’re off” when you already know I’m off at 7:30 is no way to get a first date with me. You make plans, dammit.

Maybe I’m nitpicking. But I mean, I think I can do better, right? Even if he is hot, Irish, 30-something, and the founder of his own nonprofit…

Oh dear god. What have I done…?

I just found out that one of my references actually ran off with $27,000 of the company’s money right after I left.

Guess who’s not going to get hired by any of the people she gave her references to?

THIS GIRL.