So, I'll admit it. I've been a little on the complainy lately. The job has been getting rough around the edges the last few weeks, and instead of just shutting up and toughing it out like a big girl, I've whined and cried like a gassy infant the entire time. Hey, at least I admit it.
I had to work this past Saturday because we're basically moving the entire showroom around. I, who value my weekends and like to stay on a pretty normal schedule, was not happy. Like not even a little bit. But, I hadn't a choice in the matter, so at 7:45 on Saturday morning I dragged myself out of my bed, put on yoga pants with paint splatters, a t-shirt, brushed my teeth (lucky for them) and headed out the door.
We worked for about 4.5 hours or so and got a ton of stuff done, which actually works to my benefit seeing as I'm the only one that's doing the move most days. So yeah, we finished, I left and pretty much just thanked my lucky stars it was over.
Welllll....
Then this morning, I walk in the door and my boss is like "so what day you want off?" I turned around, and fought the urge to look at him and tell him to eff off it was too early for jokes like that. Instead, I just said what?
What day do you want off for comp time for Saturday?
You for real?
Um, yes. I told you that last week.
(how in the heck did I miss this? I wouldn't have missed this.) Ohhh ok. I didn't realize. Well....can I take off my birthday?
Sure. Just fill out a time-off sheet and hand it in. Done deal.
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This is where the chorus of angels started singing from the heavens. The gates started opening up in my head to a wonderful weekend of me welcoming in my 25th year. Eeeekk!
I guess there was no reason for me to be whiney in the first place, then, huh?
Lesson learned, God.
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