![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
I think my brain is leaking out my ears
Jul. 5th, 2007 09:01 amMeh. I got fussed at this morning by the truck driver. Which sounds weird. But the truck showed up early and they scrambled to set up the rollers that lead from the truck to the store. I've never done this before. In fact, they seem to take great care in making sure they don't call me until this has all been set up first. So I don't know how to fix the wheels/legs/whatever. Got that? Good. So when he says, hey, the leg on the rack [the wha? I wonder] needs to be fixed, I look. I notice one of the wheels has popped off the tote that it was sitting on, so I head over to the other side to fix that. Okay? I'm on my way around the stupid rollers of doom to fix the only problem that I can see. And he blows a freakin' gasket. He points to something close to me, gestures again, and tells me to fix it. Which I would be happy to do, only I don't know how. Which I tell him.
Obviously he doesn't believe me, because he hops down, gets the mother of all attitudes, and snaps, "you do this, and this, and this." Then he hops back up on the truck and all the self control I have ever had is used to keep myself from saying, "What the fuck is your problem? You don't have to be such a motherfucking bitch about it, because I don't know how to do something I've never done before. FUCK YOU." Seriously. Had to bite my tongue and everything. Then I turned, walked away, and resisted the urge to hand someone the Telxon and walk back to the front of the store. And the only reason I didn't stalk off was the fact that this guy's job must SUCK. He can't be expected to know what I do or do not know, although me telling him "I don't know how to do that, but if you'd tell me..." should have been a really big clue. As it is, I'm thinking I'm gonna try and avoid truck as much as humanly possible. This was a hell of a lot easier before the truck started getting here at 5am. Oi.
Now, I should also point out that I've had a headache since maybe 11PM. The kind that moves around your skull and you honestly think you're gonna puke if you move too fast, because your head starts spinning. It's not pretty and it's not making me the smartest girl ever or the happiest one either. I can't even figure out why I didn't try and leave early. I must have had a good reason, because ugh, now I feel even worse.
If you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go pass out. Or try to do so, anyway.
Obviously he doesn't believe me, because he hops down, gets the mother of all attitudes, and snaps, "you do this, and this, and this." Then he hops back up on the truck and all the self control I have ever had is used to keep myself from saying, "What the fuck is your problem? You don't have to be such a motherfucking bitch about it, because I don't know how to do something I've never done before. FUCK YOU." Seriously. Had to bite my tongue and everything. Then I turned, walked away, and resisted the urge to hand someone the Telxon and walk back to the front of the store. And the only reason I didn't stalk off was the fact that this guy's job must SUCK. He can't be expected to know what I do or do not know, although me telling him "I don't know how to do that, but if you'd tell me..." should have been a really big clue. As it is, I'm thinking I'm gonna try and avoid truck as much as humanly possible. This was a hell of a lot easier before the truck started getting here at 5am. Oi.
Now, I should also point out that I've had a headache since maybe 11PM. The kind that moves around your skull and you honestly think you're gonna puke if you move too fast, because your head starts spinning. It's not pretty and it's not making me the smartest girl ever or the happiest one either. I can't even figure out why I didn't try and leave early. I must have had a good reason, because ugh, now I feel even worse.
If you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go pass out. Or try to do so, anyway.
