I guess I should say not the best Christmas ever so far. I'm sure there will be worse Christmas' to come because as I'm learning what it is to be an adult and to live in the class level of "impoverished,"* I'm realizing that my job doesn't care what I want for my Christmas extravaganza.
Last week I worked 60 hours. Monday through Friday, I pulled a double and slaved at both jobs. Saturday (Christmas Eve) I worked a 6 hour shift at the restaurant. I'm not kidding when I say the moment I got home on Saturday night, I started having cold symptoms. I woke up totally sick on Christmas. Didn't have hardly any energy to move; the idea of picking up a remote off the table made me wanna cry. Monday, I was supposed to work both jobs again, but I was able to call off. Tuesday, I felt okay -- not well but okay. I went to work closing the restaurant. I came home feeling worse than I did when I woke up. Then when I got home, I didn't fall asleep until 2:30. I woke up at 8:30. Tell me six hours is enough sleep for someone sick. I'm afraid that's how the rest of the week will be. At least I actually have two days off this weekend. I don't know how anyone expects me to get over my ailments at this rate, but I don't think anyone cares.
I'm hitting the job boards. Working at the restaurant has got me in a dark place at this point.
*Seriously, last year's taxes called me "below poverty level." How do you get below poverty level? Isn't that just like homeless? Do homeless people do taxes?