Log in

No account? Create an account
Read a fucking book.

July 2010

Powered by LiveJournal.com
Everyone's Mad Here


I'm so tired I don't know whether I'm coming or going anymore. Between intense classes and ridiculous shifts I haven't had more than four hours of sleep at a time in almost two weeks. The whole point of living at home was to work less and focus on school more, but I'm really enjoying having a job where I'm actually earning something and want to work as much so I can save just as much. I told the manager who handles the scheduling to please not schedule me for a 5pm shift after working an overnight, which I get out of by six am, then heading to class at 8 am. I don't have the time to both sleep and do homework, so it's either be exhausted or not do homework and get behind. She tells me I need to change my availability. I don't! All I'm asking is please try not to kill me, thanks. At the store meeting the GM told us because we're a diner, which had it's heyday during the 50s, we should model ourselves more after Chikfuckingfila and be wholesome. Yeah fucking right. We're a diner with a full bar on Glenwood South. Wholesome my fat white ass. The 50s weren't a time of innocence, they were a time of denial. We're supposed to be having a 50s car show later this month or next and we're supposed to dress up, but there is no way I'm showing up in a poodle skirt and saddle shoes. If I'm doing 50s, I'm doing pinup and they'll get the fuck over it.