Sunday, July 09, 2006

I am about to empty my brain in a very random pattern. Non-sequiters ahead.

I think I have figured out why I am so tired. I don't ever actually have a day off. I work at my restaurant five nights a week. The other two nights a week, I teach yoga. I don't ever just sit in the house for 24 hours and veg out. Ergo, I am getting extremely tired. And grouchy.

Smang put a sticker with both our names on the mailbox this week. It's like I really live here now. If I could just get around to unpacking my office...

I was going to type out some long-ass rant here, but I haven't got the energy. Suffice it to say that maybe my mom is right: I am a bitter woman. I really get aggravated with people. And working in the service industry, I see the worst of the worst. People straight up lose their minds when they go out. They will come in off the patio, walk into our heavily air conditioned space, look directly at us, and ask "Is it hot outside?" They will turn off lights and rearrange chairs as though the restuarant was their personal living room. They will text message at the dinner table. I had to get onto a friend about that at dinner at a very nice steakhouse this week. At her own birthday party. I get it. She wanted to thank her girlfriend for sending her flowers. Fine. Perfectly understandable. Get up from the table, go into the restroom or into the lobby, or even outside and do that. They will bring their dogs out to dinner with them. Look, I get it. I love Lucy. Seriously, like a lot. But I don't take her out to eat with me, nor do I take her shopping with me. Want to know why? Because even though she is my most loyal companion and my biggest fan, she is still a DOG! They will take off their shoes at the tables on the patio. Do you know how much glass and food and bird crap and other random detritus is on the sidewalk? They will name drop our owner, or even better, investors in our sister restaurant, when I tell them that they cannot have dogs on our patio, nor can they have drinks from another restuarant on our patio. That's right, you cannot even brink your rigoddamneddiculous pink, frozen drink from the restaurant next door three feet to the left. You cannot have your dog, yes I know he's well behaved, but you cannot have him on the sidewalk of the restaurant. It's against health code. Yes, really it is. I am sure you've taken him out to eat other places. That's fine. I don't care who you call. I am right and you are wrong. Fuck that "the customer is always right" crap. I could explain liquor licenses or show you the health code, but there's no point. People need to stop being so sucky.

I am going to lie on my couch and watch some Tivoed British suspense shows. Maybe that will cheer me up. It's either that, or I'm going to have to go to Lush.