So I Want To Kill This Waitress-Saturday, Mar. 13, 2004 @ 3:12 a.m.

Tonight sucked.

It's a bad idea to work in a hotel restaurant when said hotel is two blocks away from the civic center that hosts all of the state's basketball championships. March Madness, baby.

This week we have high school tournaments and all the little high schoolers are staying at my hotel. Needless to say it was, "Like, could I get, like, a virgin daiquiri, " all like fucking like night. And the little bastards don't tip and they make a mess and think their so fucking cool.

And the parents are worse. One table of parents came in and just drank. Three Bud Lights, a Fosters, a Budweiser and four shots of Cuervo. That was about a $35 bill. Didn't even tip me. Which sucks because I still have to tip out the bartender even though I didn't get a tip for those drinks. So I end up giving him money for doing a job that I didn't make money on. Make sense? I'm not explaining well. I'm tired and grumpy and got cussed out five times tonight because I refused to serve people after last call.

That's why it's called last call, shit for brains. After that, no more drinky for the irritable yuppies. Last call, last chance, go to 7-11 to get your Heineken you rat bastards. I'm not about to get fined by the ABC for serving you after hours. Unless, of course, you want to pay the fine for me, then drink up darlin.

I hate my job. Really I do. I was in such a bad mood when I went in there tonight and everyone could tell I was in a bad mood and had to comment on it and it made me be in even more of a bad mood because everyone was like, "Oohh... What's wrong with Mary? Why won't she smile? Why's she being such a bitch?" when all I did was walk in and not say a word but a few "hello's." Why can't I be in a bad mood? Everyone else there is all the time. So what if I had a bad day. And really, just don't try and cheer me up. Tickling me, rubbing my back, walking up behind me when I'm carrying a tray and taking it from me to "help", and untying my apron in front of the restaurant isn't going to make me feel better. Just fucking leave me be please.

And why should I be in a good mood? My father told me the other day that he wishes he would have killed himself rather than have children. So why should I even care about anything anymore? Why should I even try and be in a good mood.

He's right after all. I don't have anything going for me. I have a pointless job, no car, still live with my parents, overweight, only have two real friends, only a high school education, and can't even find someone to love me for who I am. No one even wants to be in a relationship with me because I have nothing to offer. I keep trying to better myself. Every time I start to make progress, every time I start to get happy and situated, something happens to push me back twenty steps so I have to start over again.

Well, I wonder now, what's the point of starting over? Why even bother? I'll only fuck up again and push myself deeper into a hole.

Fuck it. I don't even want to think about this all now. Just want to go to bed where I'm not bothered by anyone.

And by the way, what do you all think of the new layout? I like it. Anyone having trouble viewing it? Let me know.

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i'm trying - Tuesday, Apr. 26, 2005
... - Wednesday, Mar. 30, 2005
- - Tuesday, Aug. 31, 2004
baby doll lips - Friday, Aug. 20, 2004
unwanted hiatus - Thursday, Aug. 12, 2004