marcybeth

You know, working for my father has its perks. He lets me bring my dog to the office. I don't have a "start/stop shift" time. I take lunch or work through it, my choice. If I'm sick, he worries instead of bitches that I'm not there. I'm pretty much guaranteed to never be fired.

But what sucks absolute BALLS is when I'm working hard as hell, trying to get my new house in order, going to rehearsals every night after work till 10pm, trying to fit in time for my animals and new husband, attempting to do some laundry, and knowing my wedding pictures are sitting in an email from the photographer with no time to actually LOOK at them much less post them... and I'm guilted into having a spontaneous lunch with my whiny delusional mother on her birthday because he says that something might come up on Friday night when I had actually *planned* and allotted time to suffer through a night with her. Not something would come up with them - something with me. Like I'm some irresponsible 13-year old who can't be trusted to set up a birthday dinner with her mother when time has allowed us both to do it.

And then I realized that the downside to working for your father is that even at 28 years old, you're still the kid.

So I'm fucking off on SG today and doing my makeup and posting stupid quizzes on facebook today instead of finishing my appraisal report like an adult would. Hey, if I'm a kid, might as well act like one.

*eye roll*