Work woes and no winnings
I didn’t win the $189 million last night, so I guess I will be back at work on Friday. I did manage to only lose $8 after my winnings though. You gotta dream sometimes.
I am a pretty patient guy at work. It almost seems like and enigma. The older I get, the more patient I get. I am able to keep my cool most of the time and deal with a lot of bullshit. A continuous string oof phone calls involving settling petty disputes between people at work is the most irritating. It usually starts about five minutes after I walk out of the restaurant, and can continue as late as midnight, sometimes later. The flip side of that is that I seem to be losing my social skills. Once I have lost patience with someone at work, any damn old thing will just spring out of my mouth. One of my waitresses (the one whose boyfriend is currently in jail, also one of my employees) is having a very hard time paying her bills. I have been letting her work extra hours, some overtime so that she can catch up. She has asked me at least ten times this week to borrow money. Now, I have this deal with my bank. They don’t make waffles, and I don’t fucking lend money. I don’t mind five or ten bucks if I can afford it out of my pocket, I can always take it from them before I hand them their money on payday, but nothing more than that, and damn sure not the money that doesn’t belong to me. She came to me again yesterday trying to borrow $100 bucks and out of my mouth springs something like “You might not have to borrow money of you quit spending $40 day on fucking pain pills”. That went over like a lead balloon.
I have two or three pill heads that work for me. Working in a restaurant is HARD work, and they are in constant pain, two from car accidents several years ago, one because she is a PSHMF (see previous entries for the definition). I understand that you have a fucking
stell steel pin in your hip. I understand that you are in pain. It’s just that I don’t give a fcuk FUCK. Can’t really say that and still have employees working. I really do empathize (sp?) with them, but goddam. Either they are just hooked on the shit and that’s why they have to take so many pain killers (the case with a couple of them), or they are just fucking whiners (the case with the other).
Most of their money goes for pills, take-out food, ice, pot, meth, xboxes, and just general crap. Here’s a simple fucking plan that will fix it for you:
1. Quit spending all your fucking money on illegal drugs to begin with.
2. Sign up for insurance. It is available for everyone from day one. One of the only restaurants in the industry where this is available. It ain’t the greatest coverage, particularly in the first year, but it’s better than nothing.
3. Pay your fucking bills.
4. Quit fucking whining and work harder
5. If that doesn’t work and you still can’t deal with the pain at work, do something else.
It’s not that difficult, but does take a bit of work. It took me a couple of years to learn how to get responsible. When I started with my company almost 20 years ago, it was as a 2nd shift waiter. I was unemployeed, irresponsible, and although I wasn’t into all of the drug shit that they are doing, pretty much had the same problems. The biggest difference is that I worked my ass off and took pride in the job that I did, no matter what it was. I am the best. 18 months after I started, I was managing the fucking place. There have been several ups and downs. I have quit several times and told them to fuckoff. I was so burned out on it in ’99 that I quit and decided to do something else. Three months later I was back at work at the corporate office doing tech support. Here I am six years later running restaurants again. Pretty soon I will have several answering to me. I have pretty much decided that this is what I do, and do well, so I am going to spend another 20 years with them, work my ass off to get as high as I can with them, then fucking retire. Currently our stock (we are a privately held company) is earning around 9%, which is the lowest I have seen it in 20 fucking years. It’s also available to EVERYBODY that works for us after six months. Shit, that’s a no-brainer.
This past week has been pretty stressful, and at times I thought I was going to explode, and wanted to quit every day. The really funny things is that I think most of it was my fucking sinuses and allergies. I took a claritin yesterday and was fine all day. Crap, I worked 16 hours, and even though I was pretty worn out last night, I still felt better than I have in a couple of weeks. Dumbass, you have to take care of yourself in order to feel decent. Need to go get a claritin and take my other medicine while I am thinking about it.
I have taken my claritin, my protonix, and whatthefuckitis that I take for my cholesterol. There’s a pot of Starbucks brewing and I had a smoke.
Last night I caught up on a couple of show from earlier this week. I watched the Sopranos with Stephanie, and she sacked out, so I watched 24. When that was over, I snuck outside for a smoke, and met Mr. Possum on the back porch. I don’t know which one of us was more scraed. Shit, I almost jumped over the fucking porch rail, me in my undies and bathrobe. I am not particularly scared of wildlife, but going out on the back porch half-naked in the dark and meeting small shuffling animals was just not in the fucking plan. Chased him off the porch, had my smoke, and went back inside.
I think that I will surf the web for a little while longer, then I need to head to Walmart and get some potting soil. I need to work out in the garden a bit this morning.
Damn, had to edit a couple of typos. I hate typing mistakes. Need to start doing these in Word or something, have spell check. Occasionally I will use Sharp-MT to post, it
incluses includes a spell checker, but I don’t think that I have installed it since I rebuilt my computer.
This conversation is over.