What is the futility of being an adult? We run all through grade school, run through college, sometimes a little further and then we’re forced into jobs that initially make us happy, but we later come to hate. And sometimes enjoying the job isn’t even in the equation. We work until we die and once we’re dead, well, it’s over. That’s it. How did society devise that this was the way to do it? That this was the way to spend our entirety on this beautiful planet? Make money, spend money, die. It was a rough day at work. At least, it was when I left. It started out okay, I got plenty of sleep and left home in a good mood. At work, there was a shit storm waiting for me. Our new assistant manager was pissed off at the lack of respect our current employees have for the general manager and the overall lack of work done in the restaurant. Granted, he still wasn’t doing the work that needed to be done. He was just bitching and complaining about it. He called our GM (he was off today) and then when he was unsatisfied with his response to the situation, he went above the GM’s head and called our regional manager. Our regional manager told him what we’ve always done in times like this so, unhappy with his response as well, he threw up his hands and went home. The GM came in for a little while but still didn’t get a lot done. His plan was to come in tomorrow morning, earlier than the opening staff and try to knock some stuff out. Regardless, everyone left pretty pissed off and upset. I was fine for the first 2 hours of my shift but then…do you ever think about something, and the more you think about it, the more upset you get? Even if you weren’t originally upset about it? As the shift continued and the AM continued to moan about what hadn’t been done, I got more and more pissed off. I’m a shift leader at this restaurant, which means I’m supposed to have some sort of control over the restaurant when the managers aren’t there. 9/10 that doesn’t happen though, and I’m used to it so I micromanage (in a good way) what I can and go from there. But today, every time either manager needed to speak with someone or work something out with another coworker, they went and spoke to Lauren. I love Lauren and have absolutely nothing against her. But this is bullshit. What is the point of me having a title and Lauren getting less pay if she’s going to do my job? I appreciate the money, I really do, but it’s not fair to her to give her all of my responsibilities and not pay her for it? I’m already getting paid for it and no one wants to give me any responsibility, or credit for that matter, for the shit I do handle on a daily basis. Now, at the end of my shift, most of this was relatively gotten over. I didn’t care, I just wanted to go home. But then I realized that this is going to be the next, like, more 2/3 of my life. Having to deal with shitty people, working shitty positions, and never catching a break. WHY?! I think I’m swirling around the drain, ready to head into a depressive episode. My medication is keeping it at bay but work is so stressful, it’s not enough. It’s never enough. I need to clean the apartment, I need to throw stuff away, I need to finish unpacking a lot of shit, and when I get home from work, I’m too fucking tired to do any of it. And before I go in, I don’t want to do anything in anticipation for the shit storm that awaits me. It’s a catch-22 and sometimes those resolve themselves but other times, like now, that problem is not going anywhere. I’m going to have to sacrifice sleep or free time to do what needs to be done and I don’t want to. I can’t quit my job because I need the money to live in the apartment I never clean. I want to believe it will all work out, I really do, but it’s hard to think that right now. It’s hard to trust that this shit will resolve and I’ll eventually be able to come home to a relatively clean apartment from the job I don’t like, not necessarily hate though, rinse and repeat. This is going to be a short post because I’m tired, but I needed to get it off my chest. This is bullshit and I’m tired of being forced to smell it.