(All my troubles seemed… to be up my nose and catching in my throat and reverberating around the suffocating emptiness in my head… Hi There, can I help? Yeah, of course, I just need to go and fetch more ______ from the back, won’t be a second…)
Yesterday was kind of a sucky day.
But there’s a really goofy smile in there nonetheless.
I woke up to a not-so-good morning text from someone whose emotional bullshit I would rather not have to face right now, thanks. Yes, I am a hypocrite; nobody does emotional bullshit like I do, at times. However, this person was categorically not there for me the last time that happened, and for once I’ve decided that that actually matters to me. Cry on someone else’s shoulder, mine hurts. (Oh yeah – right arm feeling distinctly weird after an incident at work the day before, which I won’t go into the details of because *cringe*).
My dad (for a dumb ass reason I won’t go into, but let’s just say it wasn’t my fault – and weirdly, this time I don’t think I would take the guilt so nobody else had to have it) spent all day in hospital having an operation which seemed to have caused him a whole new problem by the time he came round. Apparently there was a lot of waiting and a lot of being passed along from doctor to increasingly-less-well-informed doctor, involved. In addition to being mostly clueless, it seemed there just weren’t enough of them in the place to go around – hence why, I suppose. And why none of them appeared to give a damn and why he was eventually sent home in agony and pretty clueless about the whole situation himself, at about 11pm.
I won’t bad-mouth the NHS, but I would say that it’s still a fucking fantastic plan to never ever ever get ill, and I really hope my auntie makes a speedy recovery too, from her doctor’s mistake in prescribing her medication she had a known allergy to, plus whatever was originally wrong with her.
Now, I don’t know very much about all this because I was at work. There I was one of a team consisting of, on average over the 8 hours of my shift, 3 people. Ordinarily this would be mildly frustrating. Yesterday, for once in the place’s life there were a fair few customers kicking about. A fair few of those customers wanted things from the deli counter, hot food counter and/or wanted pizzas making up. Cue my responsibility. I won’t go into the duller details, but let’s just say I feel like I deserve a medal for managing to keep everybody happy whilst (noticeably) shaking from hunger – I’d had lunch pretty early in the day and didn’t get a break until 6pm, and have this thing where if I don’t eat enough I shut down – and then leaving the place, on time, in the kind of sparkly-clean state that makes everyone working the next morning think I have actual OCD or something.
So that wasn’t fun. Apart from the bit where I was maniacally trying to get the scary bloke’s pizzas made and cooked in time for his return (following a pretty massive distraction involving a wedding cake made of cheese… yes, you read that right) and a lady approached the nearby salad bar with an adorable, very smiley baby in her trolley. To cut a short story shorter; goofy grin.
You may wonder why I include this in ‘sucky’, but I was also contacted yesterday regarding a potential interview next week.
I concluded my day with 14 hours’ sleep, from which I woke this morning feeling… not really all that great but – dare I say it – a fair bit better than I have these past few days… weeks. Maybe that’s just my fake problems paling into insignificance in the face of other people’s proper ones, in which case it’s not really a good thing at all.
Anyway, wish me luck because today I’m braving some motorways to drive myself and two friends to somewhere relatively far away for the sake of another friend’s birthday. I can’t really afford this, but ages ago I said I would so now I have to.