Manuh Manuh
[ rakaur on Mon Sep 12 at 11:48 PM // category: eastgate, life, work ]
So, today’s my birthday. I’m nineteen. Woo.
I got lots of food, an awesome cake, some clothes and some money from my dad. I got a hoodie and… some other things from my girlfriend. I’m getting a CD from Steve. I got some money from my grandparents on my dad’s side. I also bought myself the Endless Blue CD. My mom cleaned my car.
That’s more than I’ve gotten for a solid five years, if not longer. It’s almost exciting. Almost.
What else do I need for this to qualify as a blog post? I hate school. I love my amazing girlfriend. I hate my job.
Ah, yes, my job. I’ve been being led to believe that I was going to be promoted to Shift Manager in January. Apparently, the Complex Manager, Tracy, has decided that I’ll never go anywhere, because I’m occasionally off a few cents in concession. I’m never off in box, and rarely in concession, but still. I guess she fails to realize most of the Shift Managers are always off when they’re in concession, but they fuck with inventory so that it doesn’t count. One of them was off $5 in box (which is an insanely high amount), so what’d she do? She put in $0.50, found a $4.50 ticket on the floor, and refunded it. Me? No, I always get written up. I get written up every time I do any little thing wrong. I’d be perfectly okay with that so long as it applied to everyone, but it doesn’t. There are people that fuck up majorly, like say, breaking the fucking glass. They don’t even get yelled at. I leave a piece of popcorn laying around? Boom, write up.
Guess I’ll have to start looking for a new job. If only I could figure out what the fuck I want to do for real life.
-- rakaur // 2005.09.12 @ 11:48 PM
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