Weekend = YIKES

So my weekend has been ... less than pleasant, we'll say.

Yesterday (Saturday) was just ... UGH. I have hated Saturday nights for quite awhile now, for many reasons. First of all, the fact that we're incredibly understaffed on Saturday nights (though any manager will deny that fact). We never have enough people to successfully leave the store in a tidy state, especially if it's extremely busy beforehand. Then there's the closing assistant manager on Saturdays. She's a huge tool, it seems, and she has this incredibly annoying desire to impress her higher-ups, so she works us all harder than any other manager. She gives us all to-do lists that we just can't complete, because like I said before, there's not enough of us. She wants all the other managers to think she's doing a good job on her only shift that she closes alone, which is ridiculous since even they don't try to work us that hard.

Last night, she made up huge impossible to-do lists for us ... at eight o' clock. By eight o' clock, we should all be doing what we were assigned to do -- and we all were -- but she decides to tack on a whole bunch more right at the end of the night. Naturally this annoyed every one of us, so we obviously didn't react to it with pleasure. I, for example, had the girls' bathroom assigned to me, so I cleaned it at eight o' clock. I usually get it done at seven or eight, depending on how busy I am. Eight is the absolute latest I get it done ... so that's what I did. Obviously I can't deny people use of the bathroom after that, so the counter got messed up after I cleaned it. The manager insited that I clean it again, so I did. Just a quick wipe up and I was done. Then, at about five minutes to nine (we close at nine), she made me go in there AGAIN. Once again, there was water on the counter and shit on the floor. I have cleaned shit up off the floor at least four times in the last six months -- it's gross! Ah, the delights of working in a toy store. Aside from that, I was PISSED that I had to do the bathroom THREE times in an hour. Any other manager wouldn't care, as long as it had been done once before we closed. I couldn't believe how anal she was being.

Most of the managers let us out of the store at 9:15 at the LATEST, even if the store isn't up to snuff. Not last night's manager though. Every single time she closes, she keeps us until around 9:30, making sure everything is PERFECT. Last night it was 9:25 when she let us out, after making an incredibly annoying speech about us giving her "attitude" and not doing what we were told. Well, when you give people impossible lists of things to get done, in an impossible time to do it, yeah, we're gonna give you attitude. Don't be a bitch and we won't have that problem!

I also made it very clear to her that I HAD to leave well before 9:20 to catch my bus home, but guess what? She didn't give a shit. Luckily for me, a friend of mine offered me a ride -- otherwise I would've been waiting until 10:30 for the very last bus of the night ... and I would've been MAD.


Then when I got home last night, I was met with something completely new. Richard had found my "diary" and read it. I have kept a journal for ... years, really, but I only have one (from when I was 18) here in our apartment. All the others are still packed away in storage. He was looking through my boxes that are up in the closet, and was intrigued by that. My journal, though, isn't like a lot of people's. It's ... stories I've written, sort of. I like writing, but writing out my life isn't always that thrilling ... so I make it up. No one has EVER known that before, no boyfriend, no friend, nothing ... so I was INCREDIBLY embarassed to find out he'd read it. I wasn't mad ... just embarassed. I was afraid he'd find it ... childish, stupid ... any negative thing someone could possibly think of something like that.

So I cried. A lot. We sat on the couch talking about it for awhile, and I felt like he was criticizing me for what I had written. Then he said, "You're under the impression that I love you less." Followed by, "But I think I love you more." And then ... a bunch more tears from me. After a bit more talking, he said "You have an incredible talent. What I read was really good. I couldn't put it down ... and it's hard to find a book I can't put down."

I was absolutely shocked. I couldn't believe he was telling me that! It felt amazing! I may have written about nothing particularly important, and I never finish I thing I write ... but he liked it! He thinks I'm good at it! I was ... amazed!

I'm still embarassed that he read it, but I'm far from angry. It actually feels nice to get that off my chest, even if I'm not the one did it. It was forced, but good.

We spent the night together, and woke up incredibly happy. I loved it.


Today, however, SUCKED.

It started out with a lecture on my "numbers" -- the fact that I never sell protection plans at work, and they all think I've given up. I tried to defend it again, but of course, it wasn't all that successful.

I continued along my day, hating my job and wishing the day would be over, until Luis came up to me and told me he was taking Amy out of service and putting me in. At work, whoever is in service does the most transactions in a day and should do awesome at selling protection plans. Amy, who was in service, almost always hits her goal and they never have a problem with her. So taking her out and putting me in made NO sense. If you want to force me to sell, put me on CASH so I don't fuck up that much -- putting me in service will just result in a lower average for everyone, resulting in less hours for everyone, all at my fault. Yeah, THAT's what I want -- more reason for them to pick on me.

I took an extra long fifteen minute break after that, to collect my frustrations, and then I challenged that decision. It was stupid and made no sense to me. Granted, I was extremely frustrated and had a fair bit of attitude towards the managers, but they sure as hell can't deny that it was a stupid idea.

The manager grilled me about my protection plans again, and I told her that I haven't given up on selling them, if that's what they think. So she said she'd have to talk to "her team" and let me know if they've "given up on me".

Long story short, she's going to call me tomorrow or Tuesday and let me know if they're letting me go. Yep, I've put a year in at that fucking place (a year and eleven days to be precise) but that means nothing. They're willing to just let me go over one bad day. Unbelieveable.

Then they sent me home early. Instead of getting of at 6 and getting home at 7:15, I was here by 3:30-ish. I'm not complaining -- I didn't want to be there anymore -- but it's still quite upsetting.


And now, I'm going to listen to the storm outside and consider a nap. Hopefully this week I can find a new job, so I'm covered if they fire me, or I can quit if they don't. I'm sick of all the politics and drama at that place!