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Ffffffffffffffffffffffffffff.

Not a good day and sadly not a damn bit of it was my fault.  I was an hour late to work because the dumbass that gave me my schedule told me the wrong time.  You'd think that when a reliable worker doesn't show up for work on time that there might be a problem.  Most managers would think to CALL the employee to see if there was a communication breakdown or if something had happened.  At least that was the way it always worked at my other jobs.  Did I get a call? Nope.  Instead I got treated like shit all day and had to deal with passive aggressive jabs that basically told me my manager didn't believe a word that I said.  Since I started working there in October there have only been two days that I didn't show up for work and both times I made sure to call in.  Correction, the second time I was late because my car wouldn't start and when I called to tell my boss I was on the way she just told me not to worry about it and to take the day off.  I even showed up when I felt like shit and should have been in bed.  Fuck you, I don't deserve being treated like an idiot when someone else made the goddamn mistake.

Then there's pressure from a million other things, the move mostly.  I'm still not packed up all the way and I'm not entirely sure that I'm going to get the help I need when I need it.  Half of my room is nothing but boxes right now and the other half is my living space plus a gigantic trash bag that I'm filling up as I go.  I just want everything to be done with so that I don't have to worry over anything any more. Tomorrow I work again, going in early to make up for the time that I lost today.  After that I'm going to pack even more shit up and then sit and stare at all the fucking boxes.  Hopefully Friday I'll be able to get someone to help me move some of them, but I'm not going to hold my breath.  My mom tells me that one of my nephews will be free for something or other, but with my luck it'll be the one that isn't really capable of lifting anything right now.  That's what I need help with, lifting things.

I have more to say, but I don't really care right now.  Fuck everything, I'm just going to bed.  Hopefully the ridiculous amount of rage will have receded by then and I won't feel like I need to stab someone in the throat with a pair of scissors.