Fuck Work

I hate work, totally, utterly, completely. There is not one thing or person there I appreciate, except for the few who remind me not to let customers walk on me. "You can't be too nice!" Exactly right. I shouldn't be so nice, and I shouldn't put others before me. Why do I do it all the time? Axe says the day he's on his death bed and he calls for me I wont be there, because I'll be too busy sacrificing everything for someone else, "Sure, my fiance is dieing but I can cover your shift. Sure I can bring you to the grocery store. Sure I can babysit your dogs." I just want to slap myself until I realize I have a self, that needs to be acknowledged and respected. It wouldn't be so bad, if I were normal, and like everyone else. If I were capable of handling appropriately and confidently social situations. My head fogs up, and I detach almost immediately upon walking through those doors. Into that nightmare place, cluttered with all sorts of things, the only windows at the front of the store and upstairs in the break room and bathroom. It's not enough. I need light! I won't ask you to wish my luck, while I'm trapped inside those walls until 8:00 PM tonight. If I can't stand up for myself, I'll be ridden into the ground. Starting today I'll try to be a little more brave and confident. Starting today, I'll respect myself and voice my opinions more often. Today and every day I'll acknowledge myself as someone worth while and important. I'll do things for me, and not for everyone else.