And this is just the warm up. I worked 35 hours in the last 72 hours and got 7 hours of sleep. Somehow I'm still alive...although barely. There is a reason why for my lack of not being asleep and I'll get to that in a moment, but first let's review the random FUCKED UP moments.
-Friday Night was insanely busy (Hawks game) and in my rush to carry a heavy bus tub (of dirty dishes) I slipped and nearly broke my head open. Wisely I decided to drop the lot of the dishes and save myself from yet another head injury.
-Saturday Morning this creepy guy kept flagging me down to ask me a question. I assumed he wanted to ask me about a job, but instead wanted to fence a leather jacket for $20. I declined several times before he tried selling it to customers. I was "..." close" to bouncing that asshole.
-Saturday Night I declined an offer of a co-worker to get high in the alley behind the bar (more than once), yet did at least 6 shots of bourbon with him, which somehow didn't get me drunk and allowed me to control him.
-Sunday Day didn't even feel like work, more like just chilling with friends, and although I didn't make much money, 7 hours feels like nothing after a 16 hour shift. That being said I totally forgot that Roomie was hosting a dinner party for far too many people to comfortably fit in my apartment...
...and these people are still here. After working in 2 bars all weekend, the last thing I wanted to NOT do was to come home to 15 people getting wasted and yelling at each other in languages I am not fluent in. And I had No. Where. To. Go.
I'm exhausted, pissed off and in need of a blow job.
PS - I'm thinking of taking a hiatus from blogging starting Friday, which coincides with the start of the World Cup; I'll be working 30 days straight without a day off...I'm worried about my knees, the lack of cartilage is starting to really become apparent (HEY! No blow job jokes!).
PPS - My back is killing me.