msmoon | Oh wretched night... (Reply)

”Never so weary...never so in woe...I can no further crawl, no further go...”
-Hermia from A Midsummer Night’s Dream

I’m so hurt right now, I don’t even know if I should write. But if I don’t I may just not touch this thing in hopes of not having to explain, and then it’ll go dormant. So, here goes.

Got to work early today, as usual. I got there around 8:45 a.m., and couldn’t even get in ‘cause the door only lets you in at certain times. I wasn’t scheduled till 9:15 so, I guess it just didn’t expect me. I went in at 8:55 and had to turn on all the lights ‘cause they were all out. Then I realized that the computer we use to clock in wasn’t working right. So, I went over to the office to ask a manager to fix it, since only they can, and then I found out I was the only one there. Travis showed up at 9:15, and I told him the dilemma. No manager, no keys, no way to do anything. We did what we could, but it wasn’t much of anything at all. Chad, our opening manager, came in around 9:30. The manager’s schedule is not the same as the employees, so basically we’re all screwed. It wasn’t 10:45 till we actually got all the stuff we need (keys, walkie-talkies, game plans, etc) to open. After rushing to fix both myself and concession’s hot dogs, I gathered up everything I needed and headed into the café just as they were opening the doors of the theater.

I set up in café and then lingered a bit, reading, tending to customers etc. Then I realize that all the theaters are letting out and there are only 2 ushers. One usher is always supposed to stay at the podium so that he/she can tear tickets for guests as they come in. So that left one usher to clean. So I helped the usher (Britney) clean, and we were joined occasionally by the other usher whenever someone else could hold the podium. We went all over the place, and going up and down the stairs and bending over to sweep caused my sciatic nerve to start acting up again. When I finally looked up, the café needed hot dogs, because in my absence Mrs. D, one of our managers, had been taking care of the café for me. I went and made 44 hot dogs – 30 of concessions who needed to restock as well, and 14 for me.

Then Chad called me into the office. I wondered what could be so important, but I went since I don’t like to keep the managers waiting when they do deign to call. When I got to the office he informed me that he had to write me up for two things.

Last night I had jumped onto a box office cash register to help box office with lines. They discovered that I was $7.00 short, which, in my opinion, they should be glad it wasn’t $27.00 short. I don’t work well with large sums of money and large crowds. I feel stressed out and claustrophobic and I’m not as efficient as I should be. The whole reason I’ve been moved to café is because of my ‘huge money, huge crowd’ issues. I can’t work box because of it, I can’t work concessions or usher because of health problems, yet they always call me to help when they screw up and don’t have enough people scheduled. Then I either limp away or they fuss because I can’t do what I’ve already told them I couldn’t do. *sigh*

The second write up was for not cleaning the café properly; whipping down cabinets, mopping, whipping down machines, etc. For one thing, the café is never cleaned or stocked when I come in. After months of this, I decided not to care either. So, I stopped breaking my back over things. And maybe that’s not the right way to look at it, but I’m just too damn tired to care any more. After tying to pull my job, and help all the other departments with theirs as I have lately, I don’t care any more. Another thing, I can’t mop. The weight, the swiveling, everything, grates on the nerves in my back and makes my limp worse. I figured I didn’t need to wipe down the cabinets since I was opening the next day. I figured I’d be able to wipe them down before anyone got there the next day. And I would’ve if the manager would’ve been there before me ¬.¬ I suppose I’m being irrational because I’m hurt, but I can’t help that.

After work I came home, took a long shower, and ate with Mom and Dad. Mom had made two of my favorite dishes, green been casserole, and roast beef in a nice brown gravy. For a moment I just let myself enjoy the food. Even the fresh tea tasted so good...maybe it was because I’d hurt so bad...Then I calmly and rationally told Mom and Dad everything that had happened. I could tell that they could tell that something was wrong. Mom asked me when I worked next, and I told her Monday morning. She then told me she thought I should give my two-week notice then. Dad told me I should ‘just quit!’ but it’s very unprofessional. Besides, I’ve worked there two and a half years. I don’t want to be the one making the mistakes on the way out.

So here I sit, typing this sad story up, alternating an ice pack on my throbbing, aching knees, and still very hurt. Even the good food, good counsel, and the fact that I got three packages in today hasn’t helped much. I received two books, Van Helsing and The Dragon and the Border and the first season of Slayers on DVD. Perhaps the antics of <a href="http://www.inverse.org/e/bkg/chars/lina.shtml:>Lina Inverse</a> will help *sigh* and maybe another helping of green casserole...Yes...that’ll probably help. And so, I bid you farewell. And I certainly hope you do fare well.<p><center>MM</center></body></html>