Home Alone

I should be happy, right? I don't know what it is, but I'm anything but.

My dad woke me up this morning. I don't know what he was thinking, but apparently it wasn't necessary to walk into my room about 11:30, flick on the lights, and yell at me to wake up because they were leaving. I guess I needed to start getting my shit done as soon as they were out of the driveway. Fat fucking chance. I rolled over and brought my blankets up over my head, grumbling at him. I just wanted him out of my room. No, instead he walked up to me and pulled the blankets down. So I shoved my head under my pillow and completely ignored him. He started fiddling with the vacuum in my room, turned it on, and I guess it fell apart in his hands because he freaked out about that. My mom came up behind him and sorted the vacuum out. Eventually they did leave my room, though they left the door wide open. I was pissed off. I didn't go to bed until 5, which is my problem, but I know how to get shit done. I always get my shit done.

Well, okay, it's almost three in the morning now and I haven't gotten anything on the list done that my mom gave me. But I've got a couple items halfway done. Vacuuming the basement should only take me about an hour.

About two o'clock, I finally rolled out of bed. I don't remember what I did. Not too much. I brought all my presents upstairs and dumped them in the middle of the office room or whatever the hell it is. I started working on those. I brought up my stereo system from my room, barely juggling the sub, and plugged that into the computer upstairs. I found Last.fm again and started listening to the Red radio.

You know what I found out? Red's on this winter tour this winter (hmm, no, this summer) and I thought the closest they would come was somewhere in Indiana. When Erich and I were on better terms, I asked him if it was ridiculous to drive all the way to Indiana just to see the band I love the most. Even though they aren't the only band in this winter thing. It's a few Christian bands. Which, I'll admit, I like Christian metal. A lot. That's what Red is, after all. It's also what Breaking Benjamin, August Burns Red, and a couple other heavier bands are. So, I was on the Red site because I saw something about them coming out with a new album (ohmydear, I really want that album) and I searched through their locations for shows. They're coming to Ypsilanti. Which is, like, half an hour away from here. Trust me, I'll be on that shit. There's no fucking way I'm missing them when they're so fucking close. Red! I was so excited this morning, I didn't know what to do.

Along with getting presents wrapped, I got a batch of cookie dough whipped up to make for later. My mom left me in charge of making more sugar cookies. Which are a pain in the ass, but they taste so good.


I was working on the presents for about an hour, but I didn't even finish wrapping them all. I got most of them, but I still had a couple left. Then I was off to work.

I worked in only a bra this morning, because my shirt was getting in the way when I was mixing shit together for the cookies, and since I left my work clothes in the car, I just put on my coat over my bra and put on my shirt in the parking lot at work. Honestly, I do a lot of changing in that parking lot. I'm not the most modest person when it comes to my body, but I don't exactly show a lot of skin, either. I just don't mind if people see me in my bra. I know I have a nice body, though I wish I was more toned. That's all.

When I walked into work, Nate was on a delivery, so it was just me and Wes. Things were nice and slow for a while. It wasn't until after everyone showed up that we got slammed. And it wasn't sudden like it usually is - or maybe it just feels like that because it's usually only Wes and me taking care of things. Wes has been calling me kiddo lately. He said it once to me either last Saturday or Sunday, and he called me kiddo again today. I told him that I told the guy for carry-out that his eight pizzas would be done in about twenty-five minutes, even though it was just Wes and me inside. Nate showed up while they were coming out of the oven, so he took care of cutting them. He usually cuts pizzas when it's us three. Although that's about it. And, despite what Wes thought, we did get those eight pizzas out in twenty-five minutes. But, because the extra-large dough was so green (he ordered four extra thick pizzas, which uses extra large dough), one of the sausages bubbled really bad and we had to redo it. It was already going through the oven when the guy walked in.

The night really kind of just happened. I did most of the saucing and cheesing, since Zach was topping. I took a few phones, and good golly it scared me how cheery I sounded when I was taking care of the customers. Because I didn't feel like that at all. Although the first person I took care of in carry-out gave me a five dollar tip. I felt like my faux cheerfulness was worth it. I can fake it very, very well.

Once, one of the guys told me it was scary how quickly I could change from cursing the customer out for calling, and then snap into a false happy voice as soon as I pick up the phone from its cradle. It's what I do. I've learned that I'm a very good actress. Although when I want to laugh, that's when my visage falls apart.

Actually, I was having a good time up until Wes left. I kind of diverted back to my quiet self, since I do that when the whole crew is busy with their shit. When we're slammed, I'm silent unless I need to talk. I just want to get everything done that needs to get done so I can move on to my prep. Well, not that I have a whole lot of prep when I manage.

Before Wes left - and I guess Nate was taking him home since Nate stuck around a long time after he counted his money - Dewey showed up. For some reason, he was wearing a fake mustache and I never asked him why. Though, instead of smiling and being happy to see him, he managed to piss me off. I told him to fuck off tonight. Zach laughed at me that I told him to fuck off and then left the room anyway. Well, shut up.

I think it was Nate that launched me into the mood I'm in now. I was talking to Wes about something, I think, he said that I wasn't giving him a hug. Even though I don't think I brought it up. Then he said that Nate was between us, so I'd have to get to him before I could get to Wes. Nate may have smiled, but he skedaddled pretty quickly. No, very quickly. He darted out of the way and disappeared behind the wall. I laughed at him, but I didn't feel happy at all. Holy fuck, it makes me cry now. I don't even know why this bothers me so much. No, I turned away almost immediately and my face just fell. I lost my composure for a second. I'm losing it completely now.

For some reason, that little event pissed me off for quite a while afterwards. Lyn came in to visit Abbi while Abbi was cleaning the front, and I didn't care if Abbi slacked off for half an hour after she came in. I kind of avoided all eye contact and didn't even look at her. I just did what I needed to do and kept to myself. I wasn't in the mood to socialize at all.

See, I'm thinking Nate is the epitome of my biggest social fear. He acts all nice most of the time, even though he's been avoided me again lately for unknown reasons, but I'm convinced he tolerates me simply because we work together, and now I'm a shift manager. He won't tell me anything straight. Seeing it played out like that ... maybe that's why it hurt. Because my thought process made me think it was an enactment of my fear. But at the same time, I think it's a lot more than that. Because it just made me cry. Not at work - it just isolated me from everyone else's fun at work - but here. Alone. Listening to my music.

I'm done with feeling like this, but I can't just quite on it. I wish I could. I think I just need to attack something. Find a hard surface and just punch it until I feel better. Which probably means falling to the ground in a heap and crying. I don't even know why I feel like this. Things have been going well lately. I think. But I can't even handle the little pain my pinkie finger gives me, since I cut it open on the sneeze guard when I cleaned it yesterday. What makes me think I can handle bruised - if not split - knuckles? I haven't wanted to punch something since the day I couldn't find the house for that delivery and Nate had to fix my fuck up. I'm glad he got over the fact that I couldn't find that house quickly.

Anyway, before even Wes left, I let Von go because he said he felt like shit, and quite honestly, he looked awful as well. I pretty much got everyone out as soon as I could. Except for Jazmin. I kept her a little longer than I needed to. I was hoping I could get rid of Jon, but he absolutely fails in getting his shit done quickly. Good golly, I hate that kid. He's just an idiot. And when he finally was able to go, and looked over his prep, I told him that he needed to clock out. He never fucking did. I had to clock him out at eleven. I don't even remember when he left.

Jake kept telling me how he did things when he managed. Which, in his eyes, meant that I had to do it that way as well. I didn't. Not really. I kind of modified the way I did some things, such as giving him all my dishes since he said he didn't mind cleaning things twice if he had to. I scraped trays for him. I managed to keep mostly busy this Saturday, but I still felt mostly idle. I had absolutely everything cleaned with about forty-five minutes to go. Even though Cody ordered a pizza, for which I chastised him for. He gave me a tip, though, so that was all good. Abbi also helped Jake with his sweeping. Though after she left he said it wasn't all up to his standards. Yeah, what the fuck ever dude.

Cici kept texting him all night. Seriously, once it was just me and him, his phone was going off almost constantly. I could tell that Jake was nearing the point where he'd just snap. Eventually he said he needed to go outside and call her to fuck off. I let him.

Jake and I finished at pretty much the same time. He was still outside when I finished counting my money, but he saw me throw up my hands triumphantly when I saw that I was just three cents short. Three cents. Pennies. I tell you, they're important. I was happy with that. So I printed off the paperwork and started on my check list. I was on the last couple, which was pretty much turning off lights, when Jake said he'd just be outside waiting for me to be done.

When I walked outside, him and Cici were in his car. Jake waved at me, but I could tell he was done and he wasn't ready to deal with her shit. He was telling me that he tried breaking up with her yesterday, but she tried guilt tripping him, and then she pulled off this shit. He said he was about ready to just get a new phone and phone number to get rid of her. Except she knows where he works and most likely where he lives.... I dunno. I wasn't going to question him. I kind of just nodded at everything he said.

I was going to have whoever went to Dancer (we always have a delivery to my road) stop at my house and let out Daysie, since I work about eight hours on Saturdays now, but I never caught who took the Dancer ... until I saw Nate counting his money. I told him that I was going to have him do that, and he said he took Dancer. No shit. I kind of wish I caught him to tell him to take out my dog real quick - and I would have paid him. But at the same time, I'm glad I missed it. Because it was Nate. I wouldn't have had a problem asking Jake at all. But Nate? I dunno.

So, I figure I'm going to pull an all nighter tonight so that I can get my shit done. I'm going to try getting it all done without, though. I really just want to sleep right now. Well, typing a journal isn't going to help. I know I left a lot of stuff out, but fuck it. I'm done. I don't want to do anything right now. I don't want to work tomorrow.

Y'know, Wes asked if I would come in at four on Wednesday. I have no idea why Ralph would need that, but I agreed to do it anyway. Whatever.