When I'm sick, there are two things that make me feel better: food and yelling at people.
Normally, I have a very small appetite (unless there is a plate of chili cheese fries in front of me), and I'd rather just find a corner and cry, but not when I'm sick. No no. Today, I ate four bowls of three different kids of soup, a turkey burger, sweet potato fries, leftover pizza, cheesepuffs, a Twix bar (or two Twix bars, I guess), and a bowl of cereal. That's like a week of meals.
I also had to drive to the auto repair shop today. During morning rush. Those people can die. I hate Land Rovers. Suck a fat one, Land Rover drivers - you're probably stupid and you'll have stupid babies and you're the reason this world is stupid.
It doesn't help that I had a shit weekend at work in which I got in trouble twice for server's mistakes and manager's mistakes. I hate being at the bottom of the restaurant totem pole. I also hate getting in trouble for refusing to help customers who are rude to both other patrons and my servers. In what world should those people get my time of day?
I'm also incredibly nervous. Friday, I have a job interview for a job I would truly love as an assistant for a woman I really respect. To my readers who are praying people: drop a line to the Big Guy for me (or Big Gal - hell, let's clear this up: Big Celestial Being). To those who don't pray, keep me in your thoughts.
To those who actually read this: really? Awesome.
So I'm feeling sarcastic and pissy and PMS-y (yes, PMS exists, and if you wish to argue that, I wish to punch you in the face. Point proven). Yep. That about sums it up (cough cough, hack hack)
Haha. Have a wonderful night.
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