clintron

Well, here I am, all fucked up on ambien because I can't sleep. I have had to thumb rides to work for the pst three days because the cv joint in my car is, for all intents and purposes, dead. It's a simple job, especailly on a subaru as there are very few bolts to torque back in, but... the stupid wheel is rusted tight to the hub.I have kicked it and beaten it with a mallet (and even a hammer on a couple of occasions) but nothing happened. I will have to build some sort of system that I trust to get under the car, and then I will hopefully kick the wheel off from the inside.
Of course, with all that playing with my car I was late for work again (work that I'm pretty sure wasn't on the schedule last time I checked) so I get angry calls from my boss today and I think I don't have to work. So I hitch a ride and get there half an hour before we open. ugh. still lots of prep to be done.
I really think that I wasn't on the schedule because the one kid that usually works pantry was scheduled until seven... left at maybe six without saying anything to anyone. So here... I'm stuck in sucky pantry. Making salads and desserts and the stupid waitstaff putting their fat fingers in all my food. "Ooooh, chocolate mousse..." a couple of seconds later you hear *lick, lick* "I'm just going to make myself a lava cake..." but I thought you were trying to lose weight? You eat one of those fucking disgusting heart bombs every single day.
And your drinks suck, too...
I do something and come back to find half my salad stuff gone because the employees have made their monster -salads
Fucking front of the house people don't go behind the line and snatch shit- why do they do it to the pantry?
Well, this will all stop soon when clint loses his mind and goes completely fucking nuts. They think I'm angry? They haven't seen angry yet

Thanks for reading this. Writing it was better, though.