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Today blows.
Feb. 5th, 2008 02:27 amNo, seriously. Today can go to hell for all I care.
While school and all was fine, after class I had to get a report written. So I stop by McDonalds to eat and write. Bad idea - place was, predictably, filled with screaming-fucking-cuntdroppings who didn't know how to act like human beings. After ten minutes of hearing some moo yelling "If you don't get over here and eat yo chicken you ain't gettin' no pie!" I decided this wasn't productive, and left. For Starbucks. Where it was significantly more pleasant. Got the report done with mocha to spare, conferred with Née-chan on the phone about dollie stories, and wrote some dollie story scripts. This was all fine and well.
Before going home, I stopped by Meijer to get some tampons (I know, you totally needed to know that, right?). Got my shit, and headed to the do-it-yourself checkouts. As I walked up, the guy watching the do-it-yourself checkouts runs over and turns off all the lights on them, saying "after these people these lanes are closed."
.....
Really? You really couldn't just let me get my TWO fucking items so I could leave?
Now let me digress. At Target, when we're getting ready to go on break or leave or whatever, we turn off our light, then finish helping all the customers in our lane before we go. If people keep lining up anyway ('cause clearly, light off = we're open. .-_- ) the floor manager will stand in front of the lane and direct people to other, open, lanes. But we continue to help everyone who comes up until all is clear. Even if it means going home five minutes late.
So why the FUCK can I not be shown the same courtesy?
So I go over the the ONE FUCKING LANE they have open, and of course there's two people in front of me who each have 40-50 fucking items. ONE OPEN FUCKING LANE. And I'm hoping the woman in front of me sees I have all of TWO items and does that polite "oh, you can go ahead of me" thing that I see often at my work.
OH, no. Of course not! Stupid fucking bitch just looks at me, then starts loading her 40-50 fucking items.
....
ONE FUCKING LANE OPEN!!
Ya know... I know I have a seriously bad temper, but when I'm in public I do keep it in check. But this time... I had had it. And I allowed myself the pleasure of storming out of line, and throwing my shit on the ground, then storming out of the store. And, oh yes, I made sure to walk past the fucktard who wouldn't let me use the do-it-yourself checkout so he could see how fucking pissed I was, and that I was leaving empty-handed.
Perhaps it's akin to a temper-tantrum, but ya know, I don't fucking care. That is bullshit. Utter, fucking, bullshit.
So I just went home. Will get my tampons tomorrow.
But wait, I'm not done.
Drove home in the pouring rain, and when I arrive, lo!, the garage is closed all but a little crack at the bottom, for the cats. ..... Well how FUCKING nice that it can be left open for the cats, but not for me. And I don't have a garage door opener (well, that's not entirely true. I have two, but naturally neither of them work. everyone else's work, but none of the ones I get do), so I had to stand there in the pouring fucking rain to open it via the keypad. .... Twice (once to finish closing it 'cause it was left partially open, then again to open it).
Thanks, guys! Thanks! At least the fucking cats were comfortable.
Come in, throw my shit down, open my room, let my dog out. Go back to my room, try to close the flimsy fucking folding door, can't because it's caught on the fucking sheet I have to have up because there's giant gaping holes in the flimsy fucking folding piece of garbage I have in liu of a real door. Long story short, I've now pretty much ripped the fucking thing off the track. Now I don't have any fucking door.
Which is just as well, I suppose.
And now... Now I'm going to go bash my head into the wall a few times, then put my keyboard back together, because amazingly if one pounds on the desk hard enough, the keys just go flying. Tomorrow I need to type my report, but then I'll have to leave early so I can stop some-I-don't-fucking-know-where and get some fucking tampons before class.
All this fucking emo tantrum bullshit, just because some little fuck shut a do-it-yourself checkout light off in my fucking face.
If I ever get my hands on that little shithead, I will kill him.
While school and all was fine, after class I had to get a report written. So I stop by McDonalds to eat and write. Bad idea - place was, predictably, filled with screaming-fucking-cuntdroppings who didn't know how to act like human beings. After ten minutes of hearing some moo yelling "If you don't get over here and eat yo chicken you ain't gettin' no pie!" I decided this wasn't productive, and left. For Starbucks. Where it was significantly more pleasant. Got the report done with mocha to spare, conferred with Née-chan on the phone about dollie stories, and wrote some dollie story scripts. This was all fine and well.
Before going home, I stopped by Meijer to get some tampons (I know, you totally needed to know that, right?). Got my shit, and headed to the do-it-yourself checkouts. As I walked up, the guy watching the do-it-yourself checkouts runs over and turns off all the lights on them, saying "after these people these lanes are closed."
.....
Really? You really couldn't just let me get my TWO fucking items so I could leave?
Now let me digress. At Target, when we're getting ready to go on break or leave or whatever, we turn off our light, then finish helping all the customers in our lane before we go. If people keep lining up anyway ('cause clearly, light off = we're open. .-_- ) the floor manager will stand in front of the lane and direct people to other, open, lanes. But we continue to help everyone who comes up until all is clear. Even if it means going home five minutes late.
So why the FUCK can I not be shown the same courtesy?
So I go over the the ONE FUCKING LANE they have open, and of course there's two people in front of me who each have 40-50 fucking items. ONE OPEN FUCKING LANE. And I'm hoping the woman in front of me sees I have all of TWO items and does that polite "oh, you can go ahead of me" thing that I see often at my work.
OH, no. Of course not! Stupid fucking bitch just looks at me, then starts loading her 40-50 fucking items.
....
ONE FUCKING LANE OPEN!!
Ya know... I know I have a seriously bad temper, but when I'm in public I do keep it in check. But this time... I had had it. And I allowed myself the pleasure of storming out of line, and throwing my shit on the ground, then storming out of the store. And, oh yes, I made sure to walk past the fucktard who wouldn't let me use the do-it-yourself checkout so he could see how fucking pissed I was, and that I was leaving empty-handed.
Perhaps it's akin to a temper-tantrum, but ya know, I don't fucking care. That is bullshit. Utter, fucking, bullshit.
So I just went home. Will get my tampons tomorrow.
But wait, I'm not done.
Drove home in the pouring rain, and when I arrive, lo!, the garage is closed all but a little crack at the bottom, for the cats. ..... Well how FUCKING nice that it can be left open for the cats, but not for me. And I don't have a garage door opener (well, that's not entirely true. I have two, but naturally neither of them work. everyone else's work, but none of the ones I get do), so I had to stand there in the pouring fucking rain to open it via the keypad. .... Twice (once to finish closing it 'cause it was left partially open, then again to open it).
Thanks, guys! Thanks! At least the fucking cats were comfortable.
Come in, throw my shit down, open my room, let my dog out. Go back to my room, try to close the flimsy fucking folding door, can't because it's caught on the fucking sheet I have to have up because there's giant gaping holes in the flimsy fucking folding piece of garbage I have in liu of a real door. Long story short, I've now pretty much ripped the fucking thing off the track. Now I don't have any fucking door.
Which is just as well, I suppose.
And now... Now I'm going to go bash my head into the wall a few times, then put my keyboard back together, because amazingly if one pounds on the desk hard enough, the keys just go flying. Tomorrow I need to type my report, but then I'll have to leave early so I can stop some-I-don't-fucking-know-where and get some fucking tampons before class.
All this fucking emo tantrum bullshit, just because some little fuck shut a do-it-yourself checkout light off in my fucking face.
If I ever get my hands on that little shithead, I will kill him.
