it's the dirtiest clean I know

Honestly, if Toni hadn't pointed out that my desk chair was ludicrously high, I wouldn't have noticed. I just fixed it; it's a poorly thought-out thread screw design, so apparently I have been inadvertently raising it every time I spun around dramatically to go to the kitchen and fix myself some toast. Which, I might add, I have no intention of stopping; now I'll merely have to remember to lower it periodically.

I was not a happy camper this morning--I KNEW I was going to have to go in to work (my lunch shift was "on-call," but in the month I've worked at PM's, I've never NOT been called in), but I still harboured hope. Of course, I was, so I manned up and tried to keep all my whining internal. However, once I got there, I discovered that not only was I saddled with the shittiest of all sections, but the manager who told me to come in had previously stated his intention not to use any of the on-calls, but changed his mind. So if the bartender had picked up the phone before he'd gotten to it, I could have gone back to bed.

My bank account is still looking lean, so technically any money is good money right now; it's just that with such a craptacular section, I made a paltry amount--the amount, in fact, that I would have PAID for a few more hours of sleep. I've been having trouble falling asleep lately, so the extra zeds in the AM would have evened me out a little. And also helped me not make a few silly mistakes at work today. AND, most importantly, helped my overall mood. I'm no prima donna at work; hell, I'm a waitress. I wouldn't be in the service industry if I had an allergic reaction to taking shit or getting my hands dirty. But really, now--they did NOT need me. Damn, I'm still annoyed. At least I didn't have any total bastard cussies today.

By the by, the tiny, pretty girl I was complaining about? One of my male coworkers said the most hilarious thing about her today. I paraphrase: "When I met her, an alarm bell went off. I said to myself, don't hit on her. I like my bunny rabbit. I don't want it to end up in a pot on my stove." How I laughed and laughed. I wonder if it's easier to peg (relationship prospect-wise) men or women as Do Not Approaches. Seeing as I didn't predict the "dick-in-the-box" situation, maybe I'm not the best judge. But then, fairly often, the crazies only come out after an emotional attachment has been formed. Or, when a guy decides that putting his junk in a box is the next logical step. I've had a case of the crazies myself--I like to think it wasn't that high on the scale of nutties, and was somewhat justifiable, but isn't that what they ALL say?

I crave drama in relationships, but I'm also too sane to put up with certain things. But I'm pretty certain that the main problem with me is my suffocation threshold.

My iTunes problem is on-going, for those of you keeping track. I've discovered the function on it that reccomends songs based on your previous purchases, and damn if it hasn't introduced me to some fabulous stuff. I just bought an entire album by the Plain White T's, and my favourite song for the past week has been "My Moon, My Man" by Feist.