Ugh. This wedding is really soon…
You know what I need that I’ve forgotten all about until around nowish? A little bit of each of the following, I think.
On the upside, I learned that letting a chewable Pepto-Bismol tablet dissolve in my mouth over the course of an hour really, really helped with the chemical burn feeling in my throat.
Like…you know how it is when you accidentally get a lungful of strong cleaning agents, or burning plastic, and your throat feels…weird? That feeling has been a contributing factor with this absurd cough of mine (although I can’t think of when I might’ve done either of those things to get the burned-throat feeling in the first place), so it’s nice to know that Pepto can be used for something other than its intended purpose…
My cough is still pretty horrible, of course. And I’ve been stewing all weekend about some things that happened at work on Thursday with one of the supervisors straight up lying to me and leaving a labor intensive task completely undone for me to discover at the end of a night where I was feeling like poop, and then had to complete myself…and at an evaluation our theatre got from a corporate person who was unduly harsh about me even after my boss explained to him that I was sick and hadn’t really been prepped for an evaluation because the corporate guy was, like, 6 hours behind schedule when he showed up at our theatre.
Idk. Mike says not to worry about him, but I was still livid. It’s not fair that I have to be feeling like shit and then have my employees lying to me and then have someone from corporate putting in official documents that the “manager on duty” was unavailable during prime business rounds when–oh, I almost forgot about this part–he specifically told each of my crew NOT TO TELL ME HE WAS IN THE BUILDING.
Wtf kind of ploy is that? Am I playing some sort of corporate hide-and-seek where if I find him I get good marks? I’ve never actively loathed someone from our company who wasn’t a theatre-level employee, but this guy…come on.
Oh, and just for the record, the “prime business hour” he referred to was from about 745-9, and I was on the floor up until a few minutes after 8pm, and then I decided that because we had only 4 shows during 8pm, and none of them had more than 20 guests, PLUS a time gap from 820-845 where there were no starts at all, that this was the ideal time to try and force myself to eat dinner. And none of my crew told me that was a bad idea. Because he fucking told them not to tell me. That bastard. *rages*
I can’t blame them though. I probably would have a hard time disobeying a direct request from one of our corporate reps.
Maybe he forgets that in our particular industry, and in our particular state, and because of the way our management system is structured company-wide, I don’t get to take a scheduled break, so I have to use my best judgment to figure out when is a good time to eat, and then if I guess wrong, I have to be willing to drop what I’m doing and go back to assist with floor operations and potentially not get another chance to eat before my shift is either over or operating hours are over and my attention shifts to cash handling and paperwork, which can take anywhere from 1-4 hours to complete without my having to try and eat while I complete those tasks.
I know these are extraneous details to everyone here, but I tell you to illustrate that I am at least mad for a real reason this time, and don’t feel like my thought that this guy hates me is entirely unfounded…
And then my underling lying to me (and complaining about me about another thing she lied about, as I later learned), and then having to do lots of heavy lifting while I was thinking hard about calling off the next day because I felt so bad…it’s just all too much at once.
I’m surprised I’ve made it so many days without mentioning it to anyone.
Anyway. Bed now.