Sunday

I’m soo sleepy and it’s 3:21 in the afternoon.  I’m tired if I sleep a lot and I’m tired if I sleep a little.  I guess sleeping a balanced amount would be a good idea, but that doesn’t really seem like an option for me … haha.

Anyway.  I finally have a day off.

The fourth was a pretty good day.  I had to work, supposedly from 10-2.  It ended up being 10-3.  That frustrates me to no end.  If you want me to work until 3, tell me beforehand, but don’t just drag out the time I work indefinitely and just assume I can stay.  It’s really unprofessional and happened on both Thursday and Friday.  On Thursday, I was there until almost 6 after getting there at 10 as usual.  I understand that there was a holiday the next day, but you (my boss) need to plan better.  And tell me ahead how late I’m actually going to be there.  Because otherwise I am really pissed off the whole time I am there late, and not knowing when I’ll get off is really mentally distressing.  That whole time, even if I don’t necessarily have anything better to do, I just want to leave because it’s cutting into my precious free time.

So I worked almost 8 hours on Thursday and then 4 hours on Friday, the 4th.  Then I got ready to go back to my workplace to watch their fireworks.  I went with my parents, aunt, and D.  D. and I had to kind of bail on my other friends, but I couldn’t get that many tickets.  So we headed over around 7, after sitting out on the porch for awhile.  We ate some cookout food and some of the awesome (1200+) cookies I baked that morning.  And used the napkins I’d folded.  Then my dad, D., and I played frisbee while my mom and aunt drank beer and talked.  I run for the frisbee with my hands up, which is pretty funny looking.  After about an hour or so of that, we waited for the fireworks to start.  They were really good and it was nice to just sit and watch them with D.  Fireworks always provoke thinking in me, which is weird, but I guess it’s just because they’re so big and they shake you to your core.  But I was mostly thinking about how happy I was to just be sitting there with my loved ones in the beautiful night.  It was really awesome .

Anyway, after that my aunt and mom were kind of drunk and ordered a pizza to pick up on the way home.  How stereotypical.  D. and I relayed the story of my friend “M. and the pizza” – she was guarding that pizza with her life.  Ah, I miss that girl.  Anyway, they devoured half the pizza while D. showered because he claimed he felt gross.

Next, we met up with a couple of friends who were at a house party.  I had a bit to drink before we left so I was already feeling good.  I did a shot with a friend of mine who had never had anything to drink before that night – welcome to the dark side!  Then I played some beer pong (I love that game) with her (another friend M.) against my other friend and another guy.  We lost, but I was into the game and giving my opponent friend, S., a lot of shit whenever I made a cup – jokingly calling him a bitch and stuff.  I made about 3 which isn’t bad, but M. wasn’t the experienced beer pong player I’m used to playing with, haha.  She probably made 2, and together that isn’t enough to win.  So we lost and I worked on the beer I was drinking while getting into a long conversation with the other opponent, a different D.  He is moving to the city for work pretty soon and we talked about that, among other things which I don’t entirely remember.  By this point I was tired and not feeling super-great, so I grabbed D. and M. and we all left.  We dropped off M. and then went back to D.’s house.  After awhile there we went back to my house and I felt crappy.  He tucked me in and put a bag by my bed.  The night was kind of rough, but I didn’t throw up, although there were times I would have rather thrown up than continued to feel so gross.  It was one of those nights where I’m not entirely sure why I felt as bad as I did.  I guess just because my tolerance is crap these days.

The next day, Saturday, I was supposed to be at work at 12.  My boss called around 11 and asked when she had told me to be in.  I told her noon, and she said she thought it was earlier than that.  (Hint:  This is why you make an actual, physical schedule.  I am sick of you changing times on me, and I don’t want to get the reputation of the girl who doesn’t come in when she’s supposed to.)  I still felt like absolute shit.  I managed to get down my breakfast and get ready, but there’s no way I should have gone into work.  But I did, planning to bail out shortly.  But when I got there, my boss was the only other one there and she mentioned how the other workers had been calling and saying they couldn’t be there.  So then I felt bad and vacuumed, cleaned up the bathrooms, helped set up the front of the house, and cut a bunch of potatoes.  By this time it was around 3 and there were a ton of other people there.  I told her I felt really bad (very true) and asked if I could leave.  She waited a few minutes and made me do some more stuff before letting me go.  (Shouldn’t a sick employee be let go right away?)  She somehow also made me feel guilty about leaving.  As soon as I was gone, though, that faded and I knew I’d made the right choice.  I came home and slept for 3 hours, which was desperately needed.

Last night, I ordered Jimmy John’s with Lucas and then D. came over and the three of us watched Mission Impossible.  D. left before 12 because I was super-sleepy again.  I went to bed immediately and didn’t wake up until 11-something this morning.

So now I don’t know if I’m supposed to go into work tomorrow or not, but I guess I will because it will make me look committed to my job … or something.  Lately I’ve been feeling like work’s getting in the way of my real life and things I actually want to be doing.  How did I get from “marketing assistant” to “girl putting in urinal cakes”? I feel like this job hasn’t exactly been what I thought I signed up for.  I don’t mind helping upstairs in the kitchen occasionally, but I’m a business major, not hospitality, and I was supposed to be helping with office things and going out into the community to sell our event space.  I’m getting frustrated by that, by not having set hours, and by working weekends.  I guess I did somewhat volunteer for that, but after working the last 2 weekends I’m going to feel guilty for asking for the next 2 off – which I shouldn’t, but I somehow will.  I’m going camping with my friends next weekend and seeing Batman the weekend after that with D., and those are both things that are important to me.  I’m thinking of quitting when D. gets back from Turkey, so that we can have time to do those things we never got around to the rest of the summer.  That will be early August, so not an unreasonable time to quit.  If I can make it to then … my coworker B. said it best the other day - “I’ve never had a job I didn’t like.  Why work somewhere if you don’t like it?”. And that’s a good point.  I do like my job sometimes, but that’s been becoming less and less frequent with more irritations.  I could probably get my job from last summer back, but I think I would just want the time to myself and to chill – to actually have a summer!

Gram’s coming on Monday – tomorrow!  And my friend S. is going to be in Indy on July 28.  See, these are the things my job is going to get in the way of.  I want to have time to hang out with Gram and S., but with my schedule being so unpredictable, I might be unhappy with how things turn out.

Other than that, this summer I still have camping, Batman, Michigan, DMB, and maybe more … who knows.

Ok, off to enjoy summer and my day off!

Em