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My Name is your Fate. Not Ice Bitch
Jul. 17th, 2001 12:00 amThe cam is such a pain in my ass. My cam is so crappy I have to balance the desk lamp up near me and hold still while it takes FOR FUCKING EVER to take the picture, trying not to flinch from the cancerous penetrating rays that are third degree burning the side of my head. Jesus.
And it's always after 11:00 o'clock at night once I've gotten off of work. I have not complained about work in a while. There's some stuff I need to add to my 'shit customers say to me' page. I need to mention something about not being the Ice Bitch. Ok people, hello, the ice is right over there. It is not locked. Why in the fucking hell do you think I want to walk over there, get it, drag the thing all the way back to the register and scan it for YOU when the fucking thing obviously weighs more than two of me. WHY CAN'T PEOPLE GET THEIR OWN FUCKING ICE!
And I remembered that guy that commented to me while I was straightening one night. "Oh you've really outdone yourself on the Honey Bunches of Oates. They're beautiful. You should take a rest now." Yeah, yeah, yeah. Shut up. I am not straightening cereal for my health, jackass. You're the one who fucked it up to begin with. You walk by, pick it up, manhandle it and then toss it wherever the fuck you want with no regard to aesthetic display.
See! This is why I am such a bitter unhappy person. Well, no it's not. But it certainly does not help the situation.
Thank God I have the next two days off. That actually does make me happy. When I get back on Thursday, I shall have to cross out my name on my nametag and write "Ice Bitch" instead. Perhaps that'll work.
Goodnight.
And it's always after 11:00 o'clock at night once I've gotten off of work. I have not complained about work in a while. There's some stuff I need to add to my 'shit customers say to me' page. I need to mention something about not being the Ice Bitch. Ok people, hello, the ice is right over there. It is not locked. Why in the fucking hell do you think I want to walk over there, get it, drag the thing all the way back to the register and scan it for YOU when the fucking thing obviously weighs more than two of me. WHY CAN'T PEOPLE GET THEIR OWN FUCKING ICE!
And I remembered that guy that commented to me while I was straightening one night. "Oh you've really outdone yourself on the Honey Bunches of Oates. They're beautiful. You should take a rest now." Yeah, yeah, yeah. Shut up. I am not straightening cereal for my health, jackass. You're the one who fucked it up to begin with. You walk by, pick it up, manhandle it and then toss it wherever the fuck you want with no regard to aesthetic display.
See! This is why I am such a bitter unhappy person. Well, no it's not. But it certainly does not help the situation.
Thank God I have the next two days off. That actually does make me happy. When I get back on Thursday, I shall have to cross out my name on my nametag and write "Ice Bitch" instead. Perhaps that'll work.
Goodnight.
