I hate that shit.
See, my immediate supervisor is usually in a mood when he comes back from a day off. We figure it's that shit didn't get totally fucked up while he was gone, hence he doesn't get to play the hero and fix it all. I would be freaking ecstatic if that happened. Then again, I would wonder how tenuous my position is. Whatever.
I have this problem where I tend to pick up the moods of the people around me. If you are pissy, guess what, sooner than later, I'm gonna start getting pissy, too. If you are OMGSQUEEHAPPY then I'm gonna become OMGHAPPY. Probably not OMGSQUEEHAPPY because, let's face it, it's gonna take A LOT to get me to that same level.
Add pissy mood to me being tired and overwhelmed with 9000000000000000000000 things to get done (which I am not doing because I am writing all this shit down on freaking eljay) and well, I'm gonna be close to the edge.
And the guys just don't help. Changing the words to songs from "Owner of a Lonely Heart" to "Owner of a Lonely Fart" and "Dust in the Wind" to "Balls on her Chin" and well, you are gonna get aggravated. And, remember, I'm already cranky from being all sleep deprived (I KNOW I KNOW, I SHOULD NOT HAVE GONE TO THE FREAKING PARTY). So, I'm getting near the edge. So, inventory guy brings out some boxes from stock that have been sitting there for a while for us to get ready to ship out. This means they are covered in dirt and dust and the hanta virus. So, I tell new guy to back up so I can clean them off with the air gun. Now, these boxes are on a cart. They are stacked above my eye level. I can not see if anyone is coming. I hit the gun and it starts spraying air and dust and hanta and dirt right into the direction of my supervisor. I hear, "Oh shit." and I stop spraying the air and look around the boxes and see my supervisor. I say, "Sorry! I didn't see you coming!"
He throws something at me.
It hits me in the boob.
It was this little tiny rubber thing shaped like candy corn. IT FUCKING HURT.
I'm done. I just can't take anymore.
I go outside for a minute and BR is out there and I say, "I AM FUCKING TIRED OF PEOPLE THROWING THINGS AT ME."
I then proceed to walk very rapidly to the bathroom so I can go have that cry.
I come out 10 minutes later, freshly washed face and go back to the shipping department. Supervisor is back at his desk and BR is at our table. I apologize for "girling out" on him and he says, "Hey, it's not girling out. You're stressed. Guys cry, too. It's just funnier when we do it."
I hate that my default reaction to getting pissed off is crying. WTF?
Ok, enough whining.
I need to go pack.
p.s. finally got word from the university. i have been turned down for the position i applied for back in JULY.