I realised I failed in doing the Daily Prompt for the 6th of August. Between work and trying to get funding for school and packing to move, I’m surprised I remember my own name.
I work six days this week, that’s twice as many as last week and I’m starting to regret it. It’s not the job, or the people I work with really, it’s the customers. I know, I know, never talk bad about the customers. But when you stand there and have a grown woman throw a temper tantrum in front of your very eyes over something so trivial you wouldn’t even think twice if it had been reversed, you wonder how you’re supposed to make it through the day.
I am thankful though, for the job. It helps pay the bills, and trust me, with the Film Academy looming over my head, the bills are stacking up.
So here goes for another day at work, six hours out of the twenty four in a day being eaten up by me standing there wishing I could be at home writing or reading or doing anything really than slicing meat and serving fried chicken.