ateyoursoul

Countdown t minus forty nine seconds 'til... work. god dammit. I've come to dread going to work. Dragging my feet up to the mile high counter, stepping up there. And the arsenal back and forth ensues. I think it's a never ending gun battle between me(trade mistress) and the customers(tweakers trying to sell little nuggets of fucking junk) I guess in the end I win every time, because I've got the final say. But god damn! I'm sick of their shit. And the fact that I am supposed to smile and be friendly makes it fucking worse. I think soon I will snap. Lately I've been numbing myself to their idiocy and hostility just to keep my sanity. I wonder how much longer that will work?