My insides are a mess. Like I'm physically nervous and angry and antsy and anxious. Gah! My period needs to start.
And I need money. People haven't been going to the bar, so the owners are pissed, and blaming us. Uh. . . Not our fault? So they're hiring a bunch of young girls who are going to wreck it for all involved. I don't know how they think that will help business, but it will make the staple employees, who the regulars love and adore, find better places to work where they'll make more money. I love the bar, and I want to continue working there, but if I'm not making any money, and the atmosphere stays like this, I can't do it.
People have been anoying me the past few days. One of my friends wanted to join me on my daily run. Monday, she calls me an hour before I even get up to go. Twice. When I call her back after I get up, she tells me that I slept in and that we'd scheduled the run an hour ago. Uh, 'scuse me? The earliest I ever get to bed is one. I work until midnight at the earliest. She knows this. I told her this twice already, including the night before. At first, she expected me to get up at five-thirty. Apparantly, she's been up for hours and has taken her dogs for a walk abd everything else. She tells me she'll be right over. I stretch and warm up and she's still not at my house. She lives two blocks away. I call her. She doesn't answer. Whatever. I head to the track. She calls right before I get to the park and tells me she's on her way. Dude. I'm pissed now. I head back to the house. She gets there and takes another ten minutes to "stretch". Gr. . . I don't like it when people mess with my workout routine. We get to the park FINALLY (meanwhile, she says hi to everyone, regardless of how distant they are from where we're walking, that we see on the way there and while on the track.) She craps out in the first quarter mile. Are ya serious??? I ended up playing trainer to get her to even finish the mile. BOO! The next day, I call her as I'm leaving, and she's twenty minutes away! She says she'll call me when she gets back into town so we can go. Yeah. . . No. And I haven't called her to join me on my runs since.
Seriously. Don't mess with a girl's workout routine. If she wanted me to help her get into shape, that's one thing, but even then, she has to be serious about it. GAR!
In other news, I'm all moved in. Still haven't hung my artwork, but that can wait.
I'm losing my mind not having classes during the day. I feel so fucking lazy and awful. I've been doing some research and a lot of sleeping, but still. . . I can't deal with all of this free time. I don't have any money to spend at the coffee shop, and honestly, I don't feel like socializing much right now.
Hopefully, after the bleeding starts, I'll be better. ha.
Anyway. . . I need to do some more research. My roommate should be home soon.
And I need money. People haven't been going to the bar, so the owners are pissed, and blaming us. Uh. . . Not our fault? So they're hiring a bunch of young girls who are going to wreck it for all involved. I don't know how they think that will help business, but it will make the staple employees, who the regulars love and adore, find better places to work where they'll make more money. I love the bar, and I want to continue working there, but if I'm not making any money, and the atmosphere stays like this, I can't do it.
People have been anoying me the past few days. One of my friends wanted to join me on my daily run. Monday, she calls me an hour before I even get up to go. Twice. When I call her back after I get up, she tells me that I slept in and that we'd scheduled the run an hour ago. Uh, 'scuse me? The earliest I ever get to bed is one. I work until midnight at the earliest. She knows this. I told her this twice already, including the night before. At first, she expected me to get up at five-thirty. Apparantly, she's been up for hours and has taken her dogs for a walk abd everything else. She tells me she'll be right over. I stretch and warm up and she's still not at my house. She lives two blocks away. I call her. She doesn't answer. Whatever. I head to the track. She calls right before I get to the park and tells me she's on her way. Dude. I'm pissed now. I head back to the house. She gets there and takes another ten minutes to "stretch". Gr. . . I don't like it when people mess with my workout routine. We get to the park FINALLY (meanwhile, she says hi to everyone, regardless of how distant they are from where we're walking, that we see on the way there and while on the track.) She craps out in the first quarter mile. Are ya serious??? I ended up playing trainer to get her to even finish the mile. BOO! The next day, I call her as I'm leaving, and she's twenty minutes away! She says she'll call me when she gets back into town so we can go. Yeah. . . No. And I haven't called her to join me on my runs since.
Seriously. Don't mess with a girl's workout routine. If she wanted me to help her get into shape, that's one thing, but even then, she has to be serious about it. GAR!
In other news, I'm all moved in. Still haven't hung my artwork, but that can wait.
I'm losing my mind not having classes during the day. I feel so fucking lazy and awful. I've been doing some research and a lot of sleeping, but still. . . I can't deal with all of this free time. I don't have any money to spend at the coffee shop, and honestly, I don't feel like socializing much right now.
Hopefully, after the bleeding starts, I'll be better. ha.
Anyway. . . I need to do some more research. My roommate should be home soon.
VIEW 5 of 5 COMMENTS
And fuck working out with half-assed lightweights that aren't gonna take the shit seriously... For realzzz...