I hate Mondays. I really do. Especially when I've been away from work for three and half days, and its already hard to be there.
As soon as we opened, some kid starts screaming her head off in the kid's bathroom. After the fifteenth "MOOOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!" we start looking around for the mother. We find her at a computer and she finally makes her way to her kid. She enters the bathroom and I hear her say, "Oh, honey, why did you pee on yourself? Why didnt you tell me you had to go?" So the kid pees her pants, and misses the toilet, and guess who has to clean it up? Yup. Me. Nice. Nothing like wiping up urine to start a morning.
Then we have eighty carts in the back, and I start to get crabby. I dont want to be there. The place wears me out.
Plus, I have this super huge, painful boil on my side that continually grows worse no matter how much antiseptic ointment I put on it. Jeremy keeps accidentally grabbing my side, or putting his arm around me, or I try to sleep in any position other than my back, but no, my side throbs in pain and makes me writhe in agony. I hate it!!
I hate Mondays!!!