OK, now I'm pissed...
Mood:  don't ask
Guess what? The creepy guy is coming back to work. Tomorrow. And, yes, I have to work with him. He fed the manager some tale about how he had called in to ask for his schedule and I WOULDN'T GIVE IT TO HIM!!! That is complete and total BUNK!!! Well, she put him on the schedule, saying she really does need the help. Oh, and it gets better. If the three of us (The Creep, Jim, and I) can't get along and keep our "luggage" out of work, we'll get written up. I'm very, very, very pissed off. In fact, I think LIVID would be a better term. The thing that gets me is even though I just spent 10 minutes on the phone with the manager, letting her know that he'd lied to her, she's still going to let him work. Nothing I say matters, I guess. Apparently, everybody can do as they please. Well, everybody but Jim and me. The managerially challenged owner has decreed that I can't work second shift anymore. Apparently, I'm the only one capable of bringing the system back up after the power goes out, which it does a couple times a month. And he's denied Jim's promotion to supervisor, for no apparent reason. The manager says she may override him, but I don't really see that happening. I feel like I'm stuck between the proverbial rock and the hard place. I hate what goes on here, the day-to-day absurdity of it all. But I like my job. I like getting paid to read mystery novels, and sit on my rapidly pancaking ass. I don't know what to do, or even what to think. I'm rapidly getting to a stage where I should probably be on medication. Oh, I haven't mentioned that, have I? I went off of my meds. I can't get them for free anymore, I can't afford to buy them, and I don't qualify for any state supported programs because I make too much money, and I don't have a kid. Funny how I'm being punished for being moral. Why do single mothers and illegal aliens get all the breaks? So, I guess I'll just have to do without. Or, I could quit my job. (yeah, right) I've been "drugless" for over a month now. I haven't had much trouble, so I wonder if I really needed them in the first place. Am I really bipolar? I don't have any way of knowing. I don't trust either of the shrinks I saw, so their opinion doesn't count. How do they expect me to live in our society without insurance? I don't understand this country....I'm gonna quit now, I've got myself worked up into a near-frenzy, and I need to calm down. (Taking deep breaths) My internal jukebox is going nuts, it's almost schizophrenic. Never thought I'd hear John Mellencamp and Patsy Cline at the same time, but hey, anything can happen in this wacko brain of mine. (Crazyyyy, R.O.C.K. IN THE U.S.A., I'm crazy for feelin', R.O.C.K. IN THE U.S.A., so lonelyyyyy...) Crazy is about right. Well, I'm not supposed to be on the internet while we're expecting calls, so I'm gonna log off now...