Sick, Sore, Seriously Pissed Off

I don't mind helping. I don't. I have driven from my house, back to work, and helped. I've taken phone calls at all hours of the night, I've explained the usage of the security camera at 2:30 am.... recently. But sometimes, I'll admit, I don't want to help. I'm tired, and really want to curl up at home, in my bed, and seriously just -cry- for no reason, the way that girls do when they bleed for seven days, inexplicably, as a cruel joke of biology. Or some Supreme Being's little vendetta, --basically a way for men to justify themselves for being fucking pigs. "God says you're evil, and the fact that you have a biological process every month proves it! We own you! Muahahahahaha!"

Tangent over.

Anyway. I woke up, blood everywhere, ew, already starting the day off with gross female issues that no amount of peppy Tampax commercials can make acceptable. ...And I have to work the morning shift today. Dragging myself out of bed with only four hours of not so terrific sleep behind me, sucks. I get to work sommat on time, and first thing, the night guy is all, enthusiastically, with entirely too much energy and drama, telling me about his night... I already have to read about it, can't you just fuck off, please? Just for today? Do I -look- like I want to hear this shit?

Irritating Night Guy: "So and so (owner) said she wants me to do write the room types beside each room number on the housekeeping checklist. That's like 80 times! That'll take forever!"

Slave: "So... you didn't do it, so that I would have to?"

Fucker: "That's beside the point. I don't -understand- why she wants me to do it. And now she wants me to print out all the future reservations for the whole year, and she told me to call the help desk, but I can't get them to answer, -and- I spent hours trying to figure it out."

Slave: "Uh... huh."

At this point I'm thinking, You lying bitch-made motherfucker...


...and waving him away. We used to be friends, but now, he really just grates on my nerves. He's butthurt, because he didn't get to be manager. I am a person who naturally yearns to obey, and be good for the male authorities in my life... I live for the phrase "good girl." ...So when someone who should comply, doesn't, regardless of where the orders come from, female or male, in whichever position, or WORSE, when such a person directly disregards and disrespects a male whom I honor with a position of power over me... I feel wronged, vicariously. I feel disrespected, and I'm angry.

It's been a continuous rebellion of sorts, and this is just one more example of the Irritating Night Guy's determination not to obey, or assimilate to these changes.

I -like- having someone to obey, professionally, right here in the office. I am -relieved- of the overwhelming responsibility, and it's nice. I understand that males are different... but I do not understand the blatant disregard for professionalism, especially when the other male, who works a swing shift of nights and evenings ...has assimilated already. Anyway... armed with a smoothie and a diet coke... I face the day, still feeling sickly.