Shaking, burning up with the fever.
In the realm of pain, I am the deceiver.

Okay, so I am not looking forward to work on Tuesday, November 24th. Nor on Friday, November 27th. But, I need the hours so I will go. But it doesn't mean I have to be happy about it.

THINK about it. Tuesday: THANKSGIVING DAY SALE. UP UNTIL FRIDAY. I'm in the HOME STORE. I know about NOTHING in the home store, and feel like a retard every time I walk through the door, and won't get the sales because I know nothing. Do you honestly think I am going to be happy about that? As it is, I'm hardly making sales in the department store! Children's and Intimates doesn't get busy until later this month! >_<

Friday - BLACK FRIDAY. HELL. ON. EARTH. Do I really need to say more? I mean, really. Nothing but psycho bitches will be out that day - how EVER will I get to work?! I have to fucking WALK at 4AM... DAMN IT. DAMN IT, DAMN IT, DAMN IT!

GIVE ME A BRIGHT GREEN SWEATER SO I CAN BE SEEN, PLEASE. (Haha you're funny me, you're so funny. No one will give you one, and you know it!)

Then after that, I have 18.5 hours, which burns me right up. The extra hours we got are going to the seasonal workers, while hard workers like ME are stuck with our fingers in our noses going "wait, what....?" My manager is going to try and fix that, she wants us to have the hours, and have the seasonal people work only three days a week.

YAY. Let me pretend I'm happy about this.