I just finished working what seems like my 5th full weekend in a row. I'm getting really sick of spending my saturday nights in the store. Last night was no cakewalk either, but at least we close the store at 9pm on a Sunday, rather than 11. Getting home at midnight sucks. Working later farks with my sleep patterns, too.

And now, after working the past couple of nights, I get to go in early (2 hours before we even open) for that [grumble][grumble][expletive] weekly managers meeting, before the priviledge of working all morning. Taking out the time spent inconscious, sleeping, I was just at the store something like 3 hours ago.

Oh yes, and our customers: for the record, I don't know your little Johnny, or your Aunt Mathilda, or your brother-in-law out in Tuscon. How the fuck should I know what they want? (Actually, I think I do know what the kid wants, but it's rated R or has a parental advisory sticker on it. Just a quick rule of thumb: add five years to the age of the kid, and buy a present you think would be appropriate for someone of that age group. No, really. If you were born before 1954, you might want to mentally add 8 years.) (they do grow up, you know, no matter how cute they were as babies) (and gift certificates make excellent gifts; so what if it lacks that 'personal' touch or whatever kind of crap? -- it's money. kids like money. Actually, you could skip shopping all together and just fork over the cash. Then little Johnny could come in on his own to buy Eminem, or blow it on crack or something, and we can cut grandma and her sensibilities out of the equation entirely.)

One of these years, I'd like to get a regular 9-to-5 sort of job, you know, with evenings and weekends off. Just to see what that's like.