My brain is turning into potato salad...
...and my next day off isn't until Wednesday. I'm down for the eight till one shift at the Local Shop tomorrow morning, which is a bit of a bugger coz I'm going out tonight. I've got to take it, though. My place likes to have a week's notice if you're not going to be available and there's no chance of pulling a sickie. Neeeever mind. I got that thing in UpsideClone, so I spent today feeling like a writahh, dahhlings, instead of a till-jockey. Hope it's quieter than today. Today was pure murder: every single person in the county was out Christmas shopping and they all converged on the Local Shop for ciggies and parking permits. And Vodaphone top-ups. And my till broke. And they shouted at the Chinese girl I work with and that pissed me off because she's really nice and she tries so hard and everyone's so bloody horrible to her. And rghghghghh.
I figure it's like this: I can either let this job and its attendant cruddyness grind and crumple me until I'm concertina-ed into a little cuboid of skinless misery, or I can focus on the small pleasures and treat it as a learning experience, all grist to the writaahh'hs mill, dahhlings, and so on and so forth.
Anyhow, in a couple of weeks I'll be winging my way back to the Smoke for Chrimbo, followed by New Year at my folks'. Jet-setter, me. Yerrr.