Rant
<<2003-03-22 - 8:36 p.m.>>

Of course it could be the fact that I'm listening to "My Immortal" over and over again. Not a happy song but a really beautiful one.

My feet hurt, my legs ache in a dull, apathetic sort of way and my throat is doing that irritating thing where it itches, so you cough to relieve it and it ends up just making it worse.

So, I hate my job. I hate the politics (one would not think that there would be politics involved in a small Sationery Shop with seven employees, but there we are). I hate the fact that I'm losing out on hours because my bosses are selfish, naive and don't pick up on subtle hints and even on blatant complaints. WHY shoudl the Christmas temp automatically get given all the spare hours when the rest of us have been there years? She's fat and miserable and drinks it all away anyway. God, it pisses me off it's SO FUCKING SHIT AND I WILL FUCKING DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT. I swear.

I hate people. I hate the way they communicate, the way they are so predictable, the way they enforce their own stereotypes which they clain cause them to lose opportunities and to be oppressed. I hate their sticky-fingered kids, spolied and selfish and shallow. I hate the fat women, wheezing under their rolls of fat and tits so big they have to have special bras made. I hate the old people who quibble over a price difference of 10p which means that to save a tiny bit of money they have to walk for fifteen minutes on crutches, or whatever. I hate greasy guys who flirt with me when I'm on the till/on the bus/walking down the street. I HATE THE BRITISH! And they can be jolly good and nice and kind but god, it's like the American stereotype of us is right, and we're all ugly, thick and quite happy to work in a factory for all our days until there's a village fair. Ugh. I hate shops, I hate everything that symbolises people spending money they don't have on stuff they don't need to end up with debt they can't cope with and certainly a miserable life that they do not want.

Rant over.

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