My friends went to McDonalds and all I got was sepsis
I was driving to the shopper when I spotted a rainbow and gasped, "Look, it's a rainbow!" to no one in particular. Well, no one. The story ends there, all pathetic-like.
Before I saw it, I was furrowing over one of those crazy acronymic bumper stickers. I find it irritating that I'm expected to accept SH as the acronym for Southampton when, clearly, Southampton is only one word with only one H.
I believe I'm being slowly, passively fired from my job in the Sout Hampton village. My boss hasn't called to give me a shift in three days, which is pretty brutal given his previous habit of calling twice every day. I've never been fired before. It feels strange and, yeah, humiliating. I truly did a good job. Come to think of it, I'm probably being fired because of my consistent failure to cheese it up and look parade-friendly in the midst of blatantly treacherous working conditions. If the dining room isn't a cluster fuck with no serving system whatsoever and the boss isn't screaming or making oversexed comments and I'm not being blamed for mishaps I've nothing to do with, it must be closing time. It bothers me that none of the other girls seemed to mind. Maybe that's why they all have jobs. So I'm visibly affected by disgusting men. Fire me.
There was no confrontation. I guess I'm glad for that. Whatev. I was gonna quit anyway.
Before I saw it, I was furrowing over one of those crazy acronymic bumper stickers. I find it irritating that I'm expected to accept SH as the acronym for Southampton when, clearly, Southampton is only one word with only one H.
I believe I'm being slowly, passively fired from my job in the Sout Hampton village. My boss hasn't called to give me a shift in three days, which is pretty brutal given his previous habit of calling twice every day. I've never been fired before. It feels strange and, yeah, humiliating. I truly did a good job. Come to think of it, I'm probably being fired because of my consistent failure to cheese it up and look parade-friendly in the midst of blatantly treacherous working conditions. If the dining room isn't a cluster fuck with no serving system whatsoever and the boss isn't screaming or making oversexed comments and I'm not being blamed for mishaps I've nothing to do with, it must be closing time. It bothers me that none of the other girls seemed to mind. Maybe that's why they all have jobs. So I'm visibly affected by disgusting men. Fire me.
There was no confrontation. I guess I'm glad for that. Whatev. I was gonna quit anyway.
3 Comments:
Those acronym stickers are truly an abomination. They infuriate me. So goddamn generic. I can't tell if they're advertising neighborhoods, venereal diseases, or bands.
Don't kvetch too much about the job. There are others. Betters. Just keep plugging away. Use the spare time to write the sparkly thesis o' yours so you can make a million dollars and I can come live in your pantry.
Can I live in your shower?
It's actually Pete's shower, and Pete's pantry, but yes, you can. Maevis will surely stop by to investigate, eventually deciding to camp on your lap simply because you're human and exude warmth, which she enjoys. Nature's cycle is complete.
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