Weasel

Weasal? I have no idea.

I decided to take a little break. I'm out of funny right now. Although there is lots and lots of fodder for the funny to explode all over and stain the carpet, alas, the funny is lacking. I couldn't even come up with a witty analogy or metaphor for the last few sentences. Accckkkk!

The highest corporate execs will ALL be in town this week at work. It's been pretty high stress for the managers. They're tired and freakin out in their own way, so we've all just tried to stay out of the way as much as possible. Even the dumpster area out back -- yeah the one that nobody but the staff can see -- has been tidied up. Ordinarily a gay would love all this organizing and tidying, but, alas, no. Not at all. Their stress is becoming our stress. I've come to defensively use the phrase,"I'm not that invested," way too much. I've recorded it so I don't have to say it cuz I'm just not that invested. Damn, (sigh) I did it again.

As much as I do, from time to time, find myself enjoying my job, I always come back to the fact that it's just a job for me. I really am not, in fact, that invested. I smile and make nice. And that's about it. Being a server isn't a career, but it's what pays the bills now and something I'm pretty good at. At this point, it's wearing on me though.

Apparently not as much as the server that quit last week. Not so much quit as stormed out toward the beginning of his shift. It's meant that people have to pick up more shifts, which some people want. I thought it was fun to think of ways I would have done it. I'm thinking a little Martha Graham number followed by a runway walk out the door to some theme music. It's not gonna happen, but it's fun to think about.

Seasonal affect disorder sucks.