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Ahh.. The first week of the 2004 NFL season is basically over. Sure, we have that Monday Night football game tonight, but who cares? I mean, the Packers are playing. Sheesh. Tennessee did a wonderful job thumping the holy crap out of the Dolphins, emerging with a 17-7 win. Heck, I *ALMOST* feel sorry for the Dolphins, as their fans were booing their quarterback before the half. Maybe it was the interceptions. Still, that's not nice.
Work has been getting downright ulcer-inducing stressful for me. I thought things were picking up, but they were headed the other way. Our hours are getting cut, we can't make budget, and to top it off, we've begun having money problems in accounting. The first two aren't anything that we can personally fix, but the last one is. The manager, as a result, has come down on us like a 10-ton weight. We're supposed to find out what's going on, but whenever I'm there, I'm busy. If I'm supposed to be running Guest Care or U-Scan, how the heck am I to research a money shortage? It's things like this that have me literally HATING my job, and DREADING going in.
I half-jokingly asked the co-manager about a transfer, and his reply said it all: "You're not going anywhere." That's right, folks. They'll transfer pretty much all the other full time employees away before Joyce or me get to go anywhere. We're gonna go down with the ship, it seems. That sounds fatalistic, but I tell you now that I'll be surprised if this store is open in January 2006, let alone its ten year anniversary in October of the same year.
It's been a long, strange journey, and hasn't been too bad, but I think that perhaps, just perhaps, this is the sign my lazy butt has been waiting for to get out. I've said that before, but have I ever had stomach problems, stress-induced forgetfulness, or a general dread of going in to work when I said it? I thought not.
Oh well, it's time to sell the stuff I don't want, and squirrel away money for some schooling. I think I'm gonna be unloading a lot of stuff this time. Keep your eyes on my eBay account, provided I can get over to Charles' to borrow his digital camera.
Work has been getting downright ulcer-inducing stressful for me. I thought things were picking up, but they were headed the other way. Our hours are getting cut, we can't make budget, and to top it off, we've begun having money problems in accounting. The first two aren't anything that we can personally fix, but the last one is. The manager, as a result, has come down on us like a 10-ton weight. We're supposed to find out what's going on, but whenever I'm there, I'm busy. If I'm supposed to be running Guest Care or U-Scan, how the heck am I to research a money shortage? It's things like this that have me literally HATING my job, and DREADING going in.
I half-jokingly asked the co-manager about a transfer, and his reply said it all: "You're not going anywhere." That's right, folks. They'll transfer pretty much all the other full time employees away before Joyce or me get to go anywhere. We're gonna go down with the ship, it seems. That sounds fatalistic, but I tell you now that I'll be surprised if this store is open in January 2006, let alone its ten year anniversary in October of the same year.
It's been a long, strange journey, and hasn't been too bad, but I think that perhaps, just perhaps, this is the sign my lazy butt has been waiting for to get out. I've said that before, but have I ever had stomach problems, stress-induced forgetfulness, or a general dread of going in to work when I said it? I thought not.
Oh well, it's time to sell the stuff I don't want, and squirrel away money for some schooling. I think I'm gonna be unloading a lot of stuff this time. Keep your eyes on my eBay account, provided I can get over to Charles' to borrow his digital camera.
