This morning I was pretty good at getting up, considering I was on four hours of sleep. Only hit the snooze button twice. Work was sort of rough though. At first I was ok, but the longer the shift went, the more my body reminded me that I need to get some sleep. We had a party of twenty one on the books. This is sort of bad because I’m working with Tom. Tom likes to spazz when things get too heavy for him. He can’t handle as many balls up in the air as I can. Fortunately (sort of), over half of the order was my jurisdiction. I freaked out a little bit, because I didn’t think we had enough Alfredo to cover the orders on the ticket, but it was cool, and I calmed down. Vince, at some point, was coming down on me about the microwave not being cleaned out the night before. Well, I didn’t work the night before. Vince doesn’t know how to talk to people. Sometimes he does, but sometimes he doesn’t. And this is one of those times he doesn’t. I’m pretty sure he was aware of the fact that I didn’t work last night, but couldn’t seem to tell me that this or that needs cleaned without the words coming out sounding like it’s my fault that it didn’t happen. Nine nights out of ten, that microwave gets cleaned. The only times it doesn’t are the times like last night which it’s forgotten, or we just don’t really use the microwave and it doesn’t really need it. So here, we do have a legitimate problem that Vince has every right to present to me. But he presents it in a fashion in which it sounds like he’s blaming me, now enter a compounding problem that seems to be characteristic of Vince and both of his brothers, he started pointing out a bunch of other things that need to be done differently just because he got started on one thing.

The two other things that he said, or at least remembered, was the stove top and the… you know what. Forget it. I don’t feel like complaining about my job anymore. Let’s recap and I’ll move on. Vince has problem, Vince miscommunicates problem to me. I feel cranky already from the sleep deprivation (my fault, I know) and on top of that I’ve got the strain of a 21, and Katie had also e-mailed me talking about something sort of heavy which I shouldn’t have bothered spending thought-time on in that condition, I could have mucked it up. Today was the first day in a long time that I thought that if I got pressed too much more I’d have walked out. We’ve got people in the restaurant that whine and moan and say they’re going to walk out. I don’t do that. When I feel like I’m getting close to that point, it’s far and few between when it happens. I almost did this morning. Strain, stress, pressure, perceived mistreatment… Tonight will be better.

I just got mmm I’ll say an hour nap in with the window open and the rain coming down. A good intermission during my day, I must say. I feel better, not so fatigued. And with that, I’ll say goodbye.