I don't particularly hate my job any longer, but there are certain aspects which cause me unwanted stress. For example, I work with the biggest, power-hungry, pushy old biddy in the world. I'm not entirely sure I'm exaggerating there, either. The nights when I come in to relieve her of her second shift duty, I have a hard enough time getting her to just go home. She insists in instructing me on how to do every little thing. Mind you, she's not my boss. She's my equal. We started the exact same day.

Then, there are the guests to this joint who like to yell at me for things beyond my control. Sometimes, that's highly amusing. There's nothing like getting cursed out because you can't offer any rooms because the hotel is booked solid. Or because this is an entirely non-smoking facility. Those sort of ignorant things....

So, to keep my spirits high when I go to work and to relieve stress beforehand, I've been playing Saints Row on the Xbox360. I don't necessarily even bother with the missions. I mostly take whatever gun I feel like, and start shooting anything that moves. While I do that, I sit back with a big cup of chai and some fruit. I generally leave the house, high heels clicking the pavement all the way to the car with a smile on my face that's hard to wipe off. Even when some ass calls me a "dumb cunt" for not being able to book a room.



Please, share some of your pre... or postwork for those of you on a normal schedule, rituals which wipe your stress away. Eventually, Saints Row is going to get old.

K the org is being kooky tonight.

Ah the hotel front desk experience. Youll have stories for the rest of your life.

I remember some old jewish lady yelling at me for bout 45 minutes cause her son was still driving a car while the sun had set during a jewish holidy. Apparently IT was my fault cause i hadnt magically flown and guided the son. Then she came back and bitched bout the wrong lights being on and I had to go up and turn off/on the right lights.

I still dont understand but apparently the jewish believers become amish every once in a while.

I get up and go to work first thing, so I dont really have time to think about dealing with having to go to work - I just go. If I did think about it, I wouldnt go - this theory having been proven many times with my getting up later to go to uni. Or rather to not go to uni!

lazycrockett said:

At least you understand me! And yes, I come home with a new story about every day.

oh someday ill tell you bout the chicago cub fans children who found the dildo from the International Male Leather convention that was in the weekend before.

lazycrockett said:

OMG.

Exercise.
Hot and sweaty.
Get my blood moving fast enough to distract me from the fact that I don't want to work.

xanax

Exercise. Some kind of tea, usually English Breakfast.

jerseykrs said:

I was thinking to roll a bit of something, but I can't roll....

I could steal Alex's pipe. Of course, we've no "tobacco" to put in it.
[Edited 9/13/06 4:36am]

i usually remind myself that i'm lucky to have been born in a country where women have the OPTION to work for a living as opposed to being forced into marriage. that usually helps me feel more appreciative of the ordeal that is working for a living.

XxAxX said:

wow yeah thatll work! Although both are hard

I want to be born into a situation where I dont have to work for a living!

susannah said:

That sounds even better. If work were more optional, it'd be a hell of a lot enjoyable.

CortestheKiller said:

Boy, I'm a right f'ing genius.

Anyway: Mornings, I barely scrape myself out of the house in time to open my eyes, let alone eat or meditate.

After work, I go to school. When I get home at night, I throw my shit aside and lay face-down on the floor and let the cats lay down on me and purr. Sometimes I fall asleep that way, but it’s the best part of my sickeningly pathetic sad days.

When I was working at IBM, I would come home and play Doom 2 on my PC...God-mode...with only a chainsaw as my weapon. The Imps were all my co-workers.

Bwahahahaha!

TMPletz said:

Someone who understands! My little gangsters and general public I shoot with shotguns and stuff tend to be duplicates of the pushy work whore and any customer who gives me a problem.