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Blast. My day off is being way too short. I don't wanna go to work again in 24 hours! It's so blasted freaking stupid. And I've got to work Sunday night when everyone goes to see the Bourne Supremacy. I hate working six days a week! And I freaking am still only getting 30 hours! I am never going to have enough money for school this year. At least I'll have a job though... I think I'll lifeguard, too... since being DCA doesn't have any set hours. And I wouldn't have to lifeguard a whole lot... just a bit here and there in the mornings would be fine. And it's also like, ten dollars an hour. Two jobs, both where I make twice as much as I do here. And I bet anyone both of the jobs I won't get patronized half as much as I do at the theatre. There is nothing as demeaning as being talked down to by a bunch of girls one or two years older than you that go to YSU (no offence to those that do, of course...) or don't go to college at all. Blast the talking-to I got last night from one of the newer managers... it went something like this: "Can I talk to you for a second? OK, you cleaned a lot tonight, and that's good. But you only sold two combos to 46 people. And that's bad." Now imagine that in the most condescending tone possible. And you're covered in oil and popcorn grease because you spent fifteen minutes under the popper cleaning it out. Stupid stupid work.
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