Today

Today is one of those days...
Wait.
No, this week is one of those weeks where I hate my job. Fifty percent is me being a whiny baby and the other fifty is me being sick and tired of men feeling they can push me around. Not physically of course, but here is the issue.

I see this in many jobs I've held where I work predominantly with men. I share a similar sense of humor, but I have boobs. I'm also a sarcastic person, so often when i'm genuinely complaining it doesn't always register; I'm probably just being sarcastic.
I also am generally someone who has a hard time saying no, even when what is being asked of me is stretching me thin. I also generally feel it is my responsibility to be the ever reliable one. So when everyone else is taking their lunches and not offering to stay late or not showing up for a month (yeah I mean no big deal, right?), I am the person who is called upon to pick up the slack.

Well I finally put my foot down after working more hours than anyone else in the store this week. And probably last week. So when I put my foot down and say "NO, I'm already scheduled 50 hours this week and 6 day. Not to mention I was here and running errands on my one day off, I'm not going to stay late I don't care if Michael Jackson comes back to life for one more appearance in my store, I'm not staying late (which I did anyways) the general response is "well you're a leader in training, get used to it."
And that makes me want to turn violent. Because usually the follow-up comment is "this is retail, didn't you know that?" And that makes me want to throw sledge hammers and squish people into tiny piles of goo that I can burn and turn into tar and roll over with a steam roller on the hot roads. I spent about 7 years working in the hospitality industry, busting my ass, while in high school and full time college. No one else in my store including my managers are working 6 day weeks, yet I am, and I'm expected to just keep on keepin' on because "it's retail"?

No sir. No Sirs. No more throwing Kara's business cards away, or pushing shit off on me last minute so you can leave by 5:15 and I can stay an extra 2 hours. I am putting my foot down and if I have to stomp on someone in the process, prepare to be crushed. We were told we have a "communication" issue. Well I'm about to start communicating and earning some respect Aretha Franklin style, giant knockers and all.

That being said, I still like my co workers and I still like my job and the people who come in every day, even though sometimes I want to strangle everyone.

I just need a big, fat vacay.