News flash: It appears that working for seven days a week is not good for the psyche. And so I have decided to end my professional relationship with the Meat Palace.
Saturday, to put it bluntly, was not a good day. I was severely hungover and sleep-deprived, which certainly contributed to my decision. But it makes my job immeasurably easier to do when the kitchen isn't staffed by a cadre of fuckwits--in other words, if they can get a handle on what is out of stock BEFORE I ring the orders in so I DON'T have to go back to three tables (after getting quadruple sat) to look like a moron. I'm a waitress; people already tend to assume that I'm an idiot. I don't need my coworkers to help them with that.
Friday was an interesting night. I finally made it to the Madison. Unfortunately, my mood had swung over to "annoyed drunk" because while Rachel is lots of fun to party with, her taste in men is somewhat different than mine. So I got roped into going back to her apartment with four randoms after the bar closed, and then played drunk Scrabble whilst fending off the advances of one to two of them. I kicked ass in drunk Scrabble, for the record, even though the guys were cheating rampantly. It turned out that one of them was from my neighbourhood in Mississauga, and we had a disturbing number of acquaintances in common, including one of my brother's friends who'd had a crush on me in high school.
Anyway, since I'm quitting the MP, I'm looking forward to having a little spare time. I might even DATE. The world is my mollusk; the possibilities are endless (well, restricted to the two days off I'll have per week).
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1 comment:
Oh that's too bad, but I'm glad you're looking for something new and better. Hang in there, kid.
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