Today was a pretty shitty day. I could have slept in as late as I wanted too, since I wasn't working, but noooo, the asshole next door (and I use that term loosely, weirdo lives in a building he put up without a permit and comes up on holidays and vacations to get drunk, naked, and scream obscenities at the dogs when they bark) decided he wanted to have a well put it. So I get woken up around 8am by the sound of engines roaring and heavy machinery banging around. Okay, okay, I'll wake up, but no one else is up yet so I'll just stay in my room and watch Megamind. I
I just LOVE walking into an establishment and not getting acknowledged, don't you? It didn't bother me until people showed up after we did and got greeted and offered assistance immediately. It was especially nauseating to see one of the artists dash to the door to open it for a trashy couple bringing in two babies in strollers with them. Okay . . . seriously, assholes? Your damn baybees do NOT belong in a tattoo/piercing studio! Gods, can nothing be for adults only anymore? If you can't afford a sitter, you can't afford the tattoos. You're probably sucking the state's welfare tit, anyways. And to the absolute TOOL in there who didn't even know what you want and tossing around things like "I want my name on me in calligraphy" or "I think it'd be good to put 'live and let live' on my wrist', please leave. Just leave, walk out now, go get yourself a fucking IMAGINATION, and then come back. When I finally got some asshole to acknowledge me, he pretty much had every intention of talking me out of what I wanted done and even told me the design looked like a fucking penis. Yeah, there are a few things in this room sir, that resemble a dick, but my picture is not one of them. Goodbye, and fuck you very much. What should have been a fun experience that gave me something to look forward to Saturday was just another glaring example reminding me why I hate people sometimes.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
I need to calculate what creates my own madness . . .
The first half of yesterday wasn't much fun, either. It's the first part of the month and we're really busy, meaning that I have the fun of dealing with adults and senior citizens bent on acting like spoiled, useless children one after the other after the other. And it makes me think and wish horrible things sometimes. One lady was growing increasingly impatient and all while she's slinging her juvenile attitude and crap at me, she assures me that 'It's not you, I know it's not your fault, but the only reason I'm here and acting this way is because I got kicked by a horse this morning and I'm in no mood!' Listen you miserable old bitch, like you said, it's not MY fault. Nothing is MY fault, so stop taking it out on me. When you finally lost your temper and stormed out after I told you your needles weren't ready yet, without so much as an "I'll come back later", do you know what was going through my head?
I hoped you'd go home, that that horse would kick you AGAIN, and that you wouldn't get up this time. And I've only half-regretted having that thought since. Something tells me you gave the horse incentive in the first place, and I wouldn't blame it.
Pip came in an hour after me yesterday and I wanted to take my lunch late to go with him so badly, I really did. But I usually go with Dix and she was ready to go at 4 so . . . I went. Probably a good thing since I was ready to jump the counter at the next fuckwit who gave me attitude, but I still feel really horrible about it since he's taken his late so many times for me. It was a good lunch anyways; a big group of girlies at the same table talking about boobs and shaving and stupid things that happened at work, and it was honestly therapeutic. But I still felt really bad about leaving Pippin like that, and I wonder if he was put out about it.
Oh, how I'd looked forward to Tuesday morning. So, so much. Got up and rushed to make sure I got there in plenty of time and waited for him. Damn, there were other people clocking in at 9 who always talk to us too, oh well. He walked in about three minutes till, half-awake and about as far from bright-eyed and bushy tailed as you can get, not that I blame him. Still, hopefully, I smiled at him with my arms out wide . . . nothing. Hmm. Hugged in anyways and he snuggled his head against mine but still didn't hug me back. Maybe it was because Deb and Sue were standing there, who knows. He didn't seem bothered by it though, and once again swung by the pharmacy around 1:30 asking if I was ready to go and that he thought I'd forgotten about him, even though I told him I might not go until two because of the order coming in the mornings. Fortunately between me and super-hyper Ashley it was done already, so she just laughed and said it was fine if I went. We went to Krystal. Gods, if anyone knows me and my food preferences at [i]all[/i], it shows you how much I like this guy if I went THERE. It wasn't that bad and I didn't get sick like I did with it years ago, but it's probably not a place I'd go on my own. He did say some things that kind of upset me, though, although he probably didn't realize it. Said that a local dollar store really, really wants him to work for them, says they'll match and exceed his Voldemart pay, give him alternating weekends off that VM is refusing, and work with his schedule when he starts school in May. He's very tempted to take it because he's tired of working every single weekend and wasn't very impressed when his managers scrunched their faces at him when he said he'd like alternating weekends because he has his kids every other one. He also says on the other hand, he's been here a year, 'made friends with all the crazies', and isn't thrilled about the two nights he might be required to work until 2am. It's selfish of me, but I don't want him to leave the hellhole that is VM because I'm almost positive I won't see him anymore if he does. I should at least start to tell him how I feel before he does get mad enough and leave the place, because I might not get another chance, and then if he does change jobs after that, well, no harm done. I wonder if it'd sound too desperate if I asked him if he wants to meet for lunch over the weekend. It's not like I have anything better to do, since I'm sure as hell not getting my tattoo like I thought I was, and I utterly hate spending the weekend trapped inside with Mom while she does absolutely nothing but sit around and watch crime drama reruns for 8 hours straight both days. He's a weird man; sometimes he's all up in my space and there are other days where his wall is up again or our friends get in the way.
I dunno, I've just had a really bad day, and I wish I lived alone so I could invite him over, or go to his place and spend the night without people wondering where I've gone all night at my age, even if nothing happens but us getting smash-faced drunk together. He seems like he'd be a lot of fun when he's drunk and I think it'd be a huge reliever of stress. If only we both didn't live at home with our families, fml.