No seriously, I feel as though my feet have had nails driven through them, pulled out, and then sealed with a mixture of salt and gun powder. Also, my knees threaten to give if I stand for any ammount of time.
What a hell of a night to start at Blockbuster; Monday, when all the new movies need to be shelved. More than that, to have a store manager from another store training and speaking so fast that I can't understand a damn word he's say. Nice guy, awesome conversationalist... just so long as that conversation has nothing to do with an overly convoluted cash register computer program designed in 1996, but manufactured in 1988.
And yet, not the worst job I've had. I believe I will come to hate Monday nights.
Must reach Sales Manager position soon; will force others to be shelf bitches.
Fucking ow. I thought Faire was hard; it's a cakewalk. Up down, up down, on knees, on butt, on feet, up down; Sir, how do I make the beeping noise stop?
I'm a pussy. I know it. But you know what "blog" stands for?
Current Mood: cranky
Current Music: I think there's a Buffy episode in the background...