the bitter entry

(If you’re not in the mood to listen to me rant, go ahead and skip this one, cuz thats all it is.)

Have you ever just wanted to tell someone “Fuck you” but you couldn’t figure out who, or why?

Ugh. The last few days have definitly had their ups and downs. Maybe this will help the crabby mood I’ve been in lately.

(In no particular order.)

My mom is gone. More appropriately, my family is gone. I didn’t even get to say bye. Missed my little brother’s birthday. What makes all this even more frustrating is that the rest of the household left to go help mom move in – and didn’t even let me know that they were going to until the night before. And “oh, you can feed the horses, right?”

Thanks. Thanks a lot. Oh, and btw, thanks, Brianna, for not letting me know you were in labor. Or Aunt Lanie. Or anyone. Cuz I didn’t care. That pissed me off… cuz you know, its so hard to knock on my door? Or for aunt Lanie to tell me as I’m walking past her? Or for someone (anyone to leave me a fscking message on my answering machine?

Nope, instead I come home to an empty house, wondering where everyone is until I call my mom, who tells me.

Then there’s work. I’ve come to the conclusion that one of my managers, Leza, is a sexist bitch. Every friday, we get a shipment of stock in. This past friday, I came in, and was told by Joe that I would be closing fish that night. And could I do this, that, and the other?

Cool. I can do that. No problem. Nothing I can’t handle.

Then Lindsey comes over. “Bill, Leza wants you to take your lunch. Then I’m going to be in fish, while you do load.”

Blank stare. “Have you ever worked in fish?”


“Have you ever even bagged a fish?”


“Do you know anything about fish at all?”

No. She wants you to tell me what I need to do to close fish, and you to work on load, after your lunch.

“Fuck. Ok, well, I guess I’m not hungry anyways, so I’m going to clock out, take off my uniform and come over and show you how things work.”

So thats what I did. At this point, I’ll mention that Leza did the same thing to me (and probably others).

So after my lunch, I clock back in, head back over to fish to finish up telling her what all needs to be done, and I get stuck over there. Thats when Leza paged me over the PA. “Bill call the office.” And she proceeded to bitch about me not working on load. And telling me I had to get out of fish.

Fine. I’m outta fish. Sorry Lindsey. I came back 10 minutes later and found 15 odd people sitting around, waiting for help. I can’t exactly walk past them all, so I take a couple customers. And a few minutes later get yelled at for being in fish.

The truly annoying part about all this is that I’m not the only one who could have done load. Or Fish. So instead of putting Holly in Fish and Lindsey on register, she did it the other way.

The real kicker was the next night. This past saturday there was close to nothing to do, and we had tons of extra people. Nothing to do except in the fish department, where I had to do all the stuff from the night before that Lindsey couldn’t, plus the stuff Joe wanted me to do that night.

So who else was there that night? Judy, Yvonne, Chelle, Holly, and Leza. At the end of the night, everyone is done, its 10 minutes til we’re outta there, I’m still running my ass off doing stuff in fish and she calls me and tells me to do the trash and fill up the cat litter bar.

“But I’ve still got this and this to do in fish.”

Oh, I don’t care, just do this now.

Thankfully, Holly and Michelle were standing right there, so they helped me do that stuff real quick.

Anyways. So it just seems to me that Leza makes guys do all the manual labor and dirty work.

Oh, and my math teacher is dumb. She thought I missed 6 days of class in a row. Then I told her to check her sheet, and she tells me today that I only missed 1. Which is still not the actual 3 days I’ve missed, but whatever. Like I said, she’s dumb.

And now I have to go to class, so I’ll add to this later. Don’t worry, the next entry tonight will be all the cool/fun/happy stuff thats happened in the past few days.

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