We all make mistakes but the mistakes are not random they are mistakes that can be predicted like why I always work at self help counters

I was at work when I finally got a voice mail message. I can't tell you how excited I was when I figured out that my phones vibration meant I was being left a voice mail. Well actually I think someone tried leaving a voice mail for my podcast. They didn't leave a message, or it didn't get recorded, or they recorded it, and I don't know how to check the voice mail correctly. I thought the messages were supposed to show up at a website in-box after they rang my phone, but neither my phone nor the in-box has a message left for them. So if you were trying to send me a message, I didn't get the message, unless not getting a message was the message, in that case I don't think I get the message, and that got me irritated.

I'm irritated and I didn't want you to think I am irritated from work. All my customers are depressed today. I have to make an effort to hold down all the bile they give me. Customers overestimate how good they are at operating simple devices like self checkout machines. The roll the the items they wish to purchase over the machine back and forth and then shake it over the laser like it can't pick up a bar code. They get pissed and scream at me. They don't realize they need to make sure after they scan an item that the item is then placed in the bag weigh scale station before it will let them move on to another item. The machine is intentionally keeping them from scanning more items because it thinks they are stealing, or it thinks they are scanning one item and exchanging it for another item. I don't know what the machine thinks, because if it thinks at all, it would let the 4 pre-teen girls buying Dora the Explorer products for $2.04 and demanding change back from their 2 dollars to just go, and not keep them on the pay screen where they can punch "cancel order" over and over again even though they are too far into the order to cancel, and I will have to void the entire transaction for the third tim. The computer if it contained any humanity would simply toss them 4 cents, so they could get the hell out of my store. But computers are heartless and that's why they rule the world, and that's why I will drink tonight.

My blood pressure is up from my encounters with customers and my throat feels like I just swallowed a jar full of cotton. My heart skips off on a random rhythm like it's pissed to have to do it's job. It's telling me soon it won't, like the customers who fuck with me at the self check, my body wants to get the last laugh.

Work wants me to wake up at 10 am for a celebration tomorrow. They are throwing us a party for being number one in the district "mystery shop" contest. Every employee at the store received a 100 dollar gift card. Everybody feels Ghetto rich, and blows the card money in the first few hours, I splurge on hair care products, the girls buy eye makeup.



The party is from 11am to 1pm and there will be "give aways and steak" and I can't afford steak or gifts so I guess I better get up early and get my ass down there. I laid down after work today to prepare for such and early rise and tried to sleep to MegaDeath screaming into my ears on my Phillips MP3 player. Megadeath is angry and so am I. I suddenly hate my manager, I want to tell her that growing her hair past her ass when she is 40 years old looks ridiculous, it looks more ridiculous than her braces, it looks more ridiculous than the sad roses she got on Valentine's day that I thought she stole from the back of the floral department.

I thought about asking my front end manager if I should report on her for stealing, but I figured she's the boss and she can get away with it. But then I heard that the sad rose basket came from her boyfriend and then I felt sorry for her, and I even understood why she drives three different Cadillacs to work, even though getting those three different cadillacs to work means she has to cut hour after hour for your employees, and it means I have to work 6 days a week in order to come close to 30 hours this week, and I'd rather have health care, and I'd rather get paid more than a dollar an hour over minimum wage, and if her company gave as shit about it's employees like it says it does it would do stuff like that, but instead my manager had Marty wash a 151 baked potatoes and plan a BBQ and she left nasty notes behind telling us to blow up 500 balloons and, "somebody should make them blue" because we only have 2 colors and you aren't going to spring for the money for a third color, and just how the hell does someone make a balloon that's not blue, blue anyway?