Fuck the pain away...

Today is the type of day where I feel the need to chronicle every shitty thing that's occurred.

1st I messed up the register. I punched in the wrong information and then didn't notice it for 20 minutes. Granted its not that big of a deal, but when you're low man on the totem pole, you try to avoid as many screw ups a possible.

Then, we were severely understaffed and will be until the beginning of July. That's all fine and dandy, but its a pain to pick up the extra slack during the lunch rush. To help the boss I offered to take a late lunch, thinking he would say alright go at 12:30 or 1:00, but noooooooooo I got to wait til 2:00pm. Where I got to eat all alone in the basement. Very boring, very lonely.

As usual, during my lunch I went to go get the New York Post. Except, my car was blocked in due to parking restrictions this week. The store I like is about a quarter of a mile down, not a long walk at all. Upon purchasing my paper, the skies opened up. A torrential downpour, and me without an umbrella.

Teetering along in my stilettos, (now see through) khaki skirt, and (thankfully brown) teeshirt, I raced to get back to work as quickly as possible. In the time that it took me to get back to work, everything I owned was saturated.

Standing dripping wet in the basement, I begin to empty the contents of my bag, 6 books, a pack of gum, my wallet, and a pen, all over the table to save them from the pink dye my bag leaks every time it gets wet. I suddenly realized the absurdity of this act, since I'm still in my wet clothes.

The lady who's in the basement with me now offers a table cloth to wrap around me, instead of my see through skirt. So now, I'm dripping wet, in a (white and floral) table cloth, stilettos, and a soaking wet brown tee shirt, when who walks out of the bathroom but one of my gorgeous co-workers who also got caught in the rain, but only for a minute.

Now he's trying hard to be nice, I'm trying to dry all of my stuff off, and contemplating what to do next. Thankfully in my car is sweatpants, and my boss was forgiving enough to let me wear them for the remaining hour and a half I had left.

Take all of these paragraphs starting with the As usual one and finishing up at the comment about the boss, and all of those events fit in a 25 minute period. Yeah, leave it to me to compress shitty experiences into tiny blocks of time.

So thank you gorgeous co-worker for containing your laughter, handing me paper towels, convincing our boss to let me stay, and then keeping me cheerful for the rest of the afternoon.

I think I'll go have a pity party and eat some ice cream...