I’m am quite happy at the moment. My boyfriend is coming to visit me for the next three or so days, and on day two of his visit we are both going to be hanging with my roommate and our mutual friend. On day three, some of my home friends may or may not be having a get together, which would mean seeing more people I haven’t seen since winter break.
Let the good times commence!
So, I’ve worked twice since I’ve been home from school. Two measely times, and I’m already beginning to think I might go crazy. I work in a children’s shoestore, and by and large it isn’t a bad gig. I can sit on the computer or do whatever the hell I want when my boss has no chores for me or there are no customers in the store. Up until this year, I actually didn’t mind coming to work.
Here’s where my complaints are coming from. For one thing, nobody knows how to restrain their children! I swear, any family that has two or more will inevitably have no idea what this mystical force known as "discipline" actually is. The first time I came home, after a four hour shift Sunday, I actually told my Mom that she had done a good job raising my sister and I, simply because we never got away with behaving like that in public. Either my mother was stricter than usual or parents in this particular town just don’t give a damn if their kids run and yell and throw things and generally disobey.
Even bouncy little kids don’t bother me as much as parents who gripe about things that I’m supposed to be able to fix, yet can’t help. I am not the store manager or owner, people, I have no say in what we order, when, or what sizes or types of shoes we are supposed to buy. My job is to man the register and sell people what we do have, and parents who get on my case because we don’t have enough in stock only serve to piss me off.
Take your complaints to the management, because I am simply the help. In case you’ve forgotten, the economy sucks at the present time, people are losing their jobs, and consumer spending is down. We don’t have the money to restock the shelves every six months like we would have a year or two ago, and no one seems to understand that.
Anyway, that’s it for my ranting for the day. Sorry for those of you who don’t care or think I’m full of shit, but I had to get my frustration out or someone would have paid for it later.
So, I just found out that my boyfriend, his brother, and some of their friends were robbed at gunpoint. They were out walking around late at night in what probably wasn’t a very nice neighborhood, and two black guys pulled guns on them and took a fair amount of their stuff. Obviously, this scared me quite a bit, even knowing that it was well after the fact and all parties were fine. Now, one of the things that is getting under my skin–besides the desire to see my boyfriend and make sure he’s fine ASAP–is that I had to find out via a facebook note.
Now, I can understand why he might not have wanted to call and tell me. For one thing, I’ve been sick, and he probably wasn’t keen on the idea of waking me up late at night to tell me what was going on. Another possible scenario I’ve come up with was that he wanted to tell me face to face, so that I had some kind of reassurance that he was fine, while he was telling me the story. But still? Facebook? I mean, I know it’s good for communication, but I think with something this important I would have been calling as many of my friends and family as possible a) to let them know what was going on and b) to hear their voices.
Again, I can’t say for sure because I’m not–and hopefully won’t ever be–in their shoes. But is it wrong of me to feel a little put out that I’m going to have to make a phone call tonight and ask what happened? And is it weird that I’m still awfully jittery knowing that they’re probably safe at their chosen destination by this point. (The place where they were robbed was just a stop-over.)
Anyway, I’m not trying to come off as whiny or bitchy or a pay-attention-to-me kind of individual. I just wish I’d had some kind of head’s up as to what was going on, partially because I’ve been spending the majority of my afternoon sitting here and wishing I could see him and verify for myself that he’s fine. *sigh* Only about twenty-four more hours until he’s back.
My glands are quite swollen, my throat is, as a result, unbelievably sore, I’m dead tired, I have to start studying for finals on top of doing my homework, and I JUST WANT IT TO BE THE END OF THE SCHOOL YEAR ALREADY.
I’ve just been feeling so burned out, that I want a few weeks downtime to relax and sleep and write and read for pleasure and generally do non-school related things. Jeez. Is that too much to ask? Of course, summer school starts a mere few weeks after I’m finished, which is also going to make my life very unpleasant. If you see me ranting about the stupidity of math a lot during the summer months, know that I’ve given you a heads up as to why.
Plus, have I mentioned that the next door neighbors and the girls across the hall from them were, first, blasting their music obscenely loudly considering we are having quiet hours from now until the end of the semester. Once we got our RA to tell them, after a little persuading, to quiet down, they started running between rooms shrieking and yelling and acting annoying.
Have I mentioned that’s another reason I’m ready to leave? I need a break from the stupid.