I’m eating a frozen Thai entree. It’s nuking now. So, I’m eating in the original breakroom which is, I swear, smaller than my kitchen.
I only have a table spoon to eat with. This will be fun.
I’m back in this breakroom because the microwave in the other, sun-drenched breakroom, has a piece of crap microwave. If the door doesn’t get closed exactly the way it likes it won’t cook the food. It goes through the motions but, does not cook. I think it’s passive-aggressive or, it really hates me.
Two co-workers are in here trying to use our new time clock. It’s not reading employee barcodes. It processes at glacial speed. It passive-aggressive too.
“Why are you eating in here?” asked bitchy HR Lady. “Cause the other microwave sucks. I don’t want to spend my whole break cooking my food. I’m hypoglycemic,” I said.
Be back after my shift ends at three.
3:10 pm I just clocked out. This job is turning into a roller coaster again. There are a couple of very petty people with authority in this store. Thankfully, none of them are our head cashiers.
Communication sucks pretty bad too. Person A will be told X and Person B will be told Y concerning the same issue.
Please, Universe, help me find an at-home job, preferably, a writing one. I keep looking. Nothing I’m really qualified for-yet.